


All That's Left

by The Raven and the Fox (RavenAndFox)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-25
Updated: 2010-07-25
Packaged: 2017-10-23 15:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenAndFox/pseuds/The%20Raven%20and%20the%20Fox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The past is inescapable. Sasuke has tried time and again to free himself of his bonds, but he is still ruled by the things he’s left behind. Now Naruto has to find a way to save Sasuke from the prison of his own destructive philosophies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All That's Left

**Author's Note:**

> This is a canon-based, somewhat Sasuke-centric NaruSasu. T-rated mostly for language. Mild shounen-ai (“boy love”).
> 
> Titling this was annoying because I’d been writing it under the temporary codename of “Hokage x Criminal” for so long that that became its identity. In the end, I still can’t detach myself from it. To me, “All That’s Left” is just its stage name.
> 
> This is quite possibly my favourite of my own fics. My main one, Two Face, is my pride and joy, but it was much more relaxed than this, which I think is more tightly woven and has more direction. Canon-based fics have a special place in my heart anyway.

He stumbles as quietly as he can through the woods – which is to say not very quietly at all, as one of his legs isn’t functioning right and his lungs are working desperately to deliver still-not-enough-oxygen to his battered body. As he stops in front of a small, still puddle, he can’t help a small chuckle completely devoid of humour: a battered and bruised face smirks back at him mockingly from the water’s surface, cuts matted with dried blood, pale skin grubby, raven black hair a dirt-tousled mess. His white-stained-red shirt can hardly be called a garment anymore, hanging in scraps from his skeletal frame, where the only thing hiding the blatant visibility of his ribs is the mottled black-blue-purple shades of his skin. His tired eyes turn thoughtful as he notices the three horizontal scars across one of his cheeks, and he briefly entertains a taste of a memory of a thought, a familiar image from long ago: for a moment he imagines the hair golden, the eyes blue, the skin tanned. Then his gaze darkens and he moves on, his foot splashing into the puddle and splintering his reflection into a thousand rippling colours.

Each step causes his body to explode with pain and before long he’s panting once more, his vision and thoughts tunnelling, all senses reduced to focusing only on getting closer, inch by inch, to the distant sensation of many chakras congregated in an area. He accidentally steps (with his better foot, to his relative fortune) into a den hidden by leaves. His body jerks forward and he fails to prevent a growl of pain as the motion jars his shattered shoulder.

The movement throws him off balance and he falls heavily against a tree, breath ragged. He ignores the dangers of leaving his sweat and blood and scent all over the rough bark – at this point he’s already left a blazing trail with the foot he’s been dragging – and heaves his foot out of the den. He winces, then, still bleeding, still sweating, still panting, he steps forward—

—and collapses.

Really, he should have seen this coming, he thinks to himself as his consciousness slips away. He knew there had to be a point when his strength would fail him, when sheer exhaustion would cripple him: even with his stamina, it’s a wonder he got this far. The chakras he’s tracked for days flare briefly in his senses, and he notices now that a few of them seem all too familiar. Within his mind he laughs hollowly at the coincidence, his vision fading at the edges.

 _Konoha, eh…?_

—

Nara Shikamaru pauses high on a tree, watching the other three members of his ANBU team moving forward. _Man, why’d I ever let Naruto convince me to join ANBU?_ he thinks to himself with a sigh. It’s all too much work for someone like him. Why can’t he devise battle plans from home? That’s perfectly fine, isn’t it? But no, the blond was adamant: it’s crucial that Konoha’s top tactician be on the field in case of unexpected manoeuvres by the enemy. As if he can’t predict hundreds of possible paths before a battle even begins. But his teammates can’t remember every possible plan of action, Naruto reminded him; he needs to be a leader. And Shikamaru couldn’t refuse the pay.

A distant call from his teammate pulls him back into the present, and Shikamaru adjusts his deer-faced mask before hurrying off to join them. He comes upon the three shinobi halted on trees above a clearing, where an unconscious figure lies sprawled on the forest floor.

“Look at this,” one whispers in hushed tones.

Shikamaru gives a low whistle. He can see the extensive injuries to the figure’s back through his torn shirt, and one leg juts out at an inhuman angle. A familiar pale face is barely visible from under the tangle of matted black hair.

“Shouldn’t he be…?” murmurs the cat-masked shinobi, unable to finish her sentence.

Shikamaru’s eyes are directed at the figure, but he can’t see it for the memories flashing through his mind. How many years has it been? How many fights lost, how much blood spilt, how many tears shed?

“Captain?” she says.

“Let’s take him in.”

—

A quiet knocking resonates through the wooden door.

“Come in,” calls Naruto.

Sakura opens it, bearing a tray with a teapot and two steaming cups. As she closes the door behind her, Naruto relaxes and removes his hat.

“Thanks, Sakura,” he mumbles, making space among the papers on the desk. Sakura sets down a cup in front of him, perches the tray on a pile of books, and takes the seat opposite him.

Sakura watches the seventh Hokage carefully over the rim of her cup. He’s leaning back in his chair, his gaze lost in the depths of his tea. He’s been like this a lot lately, she observes. It’s not that he’s not usually quiet; no, they got used to that years ago, but he seems even more moody recently.

“Hokage,” she says quietly, “how are negotiations with the Sound coming along?”

It’s a moment before he reacts, and even then all he does is glance at the unfinished letter next to his elbow.

She changes tack. “Naruto?”

“Yeah?” He can never deny Sakura acknowledgement when she uses his name – when she appeals to their friendship instead of their positions.

“What are you thinking about?”

At this he sighs and pushes away his untouched tea.

“It’s his birthday,” he murmurs.

Ah.

She should have noticed it – the way he puts his elbows on the desk and laces his fingers together and contemplates empty space with his shadowed eyes, the way he always visits that abandoned district, the way July 23rd is always circled on his calendar. Long-past memories have become habits, whether subconscious or not, and Naruto still can’t forget the boy he used to know.

“You’re having the dreams again, aren’t you?” she asks quietly.

“Can you call it dreaming if I haven’t slept in days?” he responds.

“Naruto, there’s nothing you can do,” she tries to remind him.

“I never said I was going to do anything. You can mourn the dead. You can remember their birthdays. No one should deny you that.”

“He’s not—” Sakura begins, but he stands. She watches helplessly as the leader of her village and her dearest friend paces to the portraits of Hokages that lines the wall, stopping in front of the Fourth.

He does this a lot, too. Like his father’s image might, if he stares at it long enough, one day impart some wisdom that will help him to move on. Or perhaps he just likes to remain in the past.

A shinobi bursts through the door. “Haruno, you’re needed in the emergency room,” he says quickly.

“Okay.” She turns to Naruto. “Get that letter sent, Hokage. I’d like to see it done today.”

He simply nods, and she hurries out.

 _What would you do?_ he asks the Fourth, within the confines of his own mind. _Father, if you had a best friend who abandoned you and your – and his – comrades, and turned against you and would have killed you and is an internationally recognized criminal and is in prison for a dozen crimes and you wanted him back, what would you do?_

Another knock on the door. Naruto returns to his desk, composes his face again, and calls, “Enter.”

This time it’s Shikamaru, an urgent expression on his face. He strides to the desk. Despite the empty and inviting chair in front of it, he’s too anxious to sit down. Naruto can tell, even without knowing this, that something is wrong.

“Shikamaru? What happened?”

“Naruto—” Naruto notices the use of his name again; something must _really_ be wrong “—Naruto, it’s Sasuke.”

He stands so abruptly that the sturdy wooden chair clatters back, knocking over stacks of books. Shikamaru flinches.

“What?” the Hokage breathes, eyes wide, anxiety extending to the end of every nerve.

“We found his body a couple of kilometres from the main gate. He was unconscious.”

“Where is he now?” he demands.

“He’s in the hospital, the emergency room, but—”

Naruto is already deaf to the world. He doesn’t bother to walk around his desk – he simply disappears from behind it and reappears with a hand on the doorknob.

“Naruto!” shouts Shikamaru. “You can’t just walk into the ER!”

The sound of his sprinting has already faded from the hall. Shikamaru sighs in exasperation. He walks over, closes the door, and throws himself on the couch.

Naruto really has to stop doing his dad’s Yellow Flash thing, Shikamaru thinks to himself.

—

Sakura stares, stunned, her body unmoving, only her eyes darting as she takes in the sight of the body lying on the operating table. He’s far too thin, for one thing, so thin she can see which of his ribs are cracked, so thin his skin hangs on his skeleton like drapery. Fatigue rings his sunken eyes; hunger hollows his cheeks. As for the injuries, even on the surface alone the damage is extensive: superficial cuts and bruises are scattered liberally around deep gashes, infected wounds, and serious burns, and it even looks like a chunk of flesh is missing from his leg. Trembling, watching through blurring vision, she brings her hands up and calls on her chakra to inspect him more thoroughly, and her horror only grows. His ribs are cracked, his splintered femur has worn down from days of use despite its appalling state, his shoulder has come out of its socket; two of his organs have ruptured, muscles are torn, and his heart is mere hours away from stopping. There is a large gash on the side of his head, and although it’s been there so long it’s stopped bleeding, the blood-caked wound is deep enough to graze his skull.

 _I thought you were gone forever,_ she whispers within her own mind, so quietly she almost can’t hear herself. _Gone. How are you back now? Why? Why do you look like this, on the verge of death, with damage that will take months to heal? Why didn’t you come back sooner? Why didn’t you stay with us? Why… Sasuke?_

—

There truly is something impressive about the billowing robes of the Hokage’s office. No one dares call out to the man speeding across the rooftops and down the streets; everyone scurries out of the way as fast as possible. The hospital, when he enters it, descends into silence faster than a lightning bolt, his presence filling the reception area and leaking into the halls.

“Where’s Sasuke?” he demands. “Where’s the emergency room?”

“Please, Hokage, you can’t enter an emergency room while the medics are working,” says the woman.

Naruto seems to expand, making the others shrink back in what is almost fear. “Where is he?”

“D-down the hall and to the left,” she squeaks, “but please, you can’t—”

He Flashes to the end of the hall before she can finish her sentence, then repeats down the next hall. Several nurses gasp at his sudden appearance.

“Hokage!”

“I want to see Sasuke.”

“He’s in critical condition—”

“I don’t care!” he shouts, and, heedless of their cries, surges forward to the sliding doors.

“Excuse my manners, Hokage,” says one nurse, a tall, strong man, and he grabs his Hokage by the wrist, jerking him back. Naruto whips around and wrenches his arm out of the man’s grip, but the other nurses converge on him too now; they hold him back as he pushes forward and although he is easily stronger than the rest of them combined, he does not use ninjutsu or fight back in any way that could injure them. And so they continue to restrain him, and he is shouting all the time, snarling, growling, “Let me in!”

And before long he overpowers them, for they are trained to heal and he to fight, and he reaches out and presses the button and the doors slide open and suddenly the resistance against him is gone and he stumbles into the room.

All the operating medics look up abruptly, startled by this interruption. Naruto ignores them and strides over. His face immediately pales to a sickly green.

“S…Sasuke,” he breathes.

“Hokage!” cries a nurse, but he is not listening; his world has contracted into a single tiny area, the space that accommodates that small, weak presence. And suddenly he is twelve again and Sasuke has escaped and now they are fighting and now Sasuke is leaving, and now he’s fifteen and he has failed to bring his best friend home, and now, now after all this time, after so long, after coming to terms with it all, after having to give up on his one biggest goal for a decade, a dozen years, even bigger than his desire to become Hokage – now, after everything that has passed, Sasuke is back.

A warmth rests on his arm and he jumps, his world expanding again, his senses once more absorbing the silent hospital, the medics, and his Hokage robes. And he absorbs the presence of Sakura, touching him gently, her eyebrows knitted with worry. He sees the fresh streaks of tears down her cheeks and he remembers, Sasuke was their comrade. Their teammate. Their friend.

“Naruto,” she whispers, her voice wavering, “Naruto, look at him.”

Slowly, shakily, he nods.

“Look at him. He’s dying. Oh, Naruto…”

Instantly, instinctively, the Hokage pulls her into his arms, and she does not resist. She lets her tears pour against his shoulder and they can feel it, they can feel his presence flooding their hearts again after all this time, after all they tried to do to get him back. It’s beautiful, and it hurts, and he’s dying.

“Sakura,” he says softly, gently patting her back. “Sakura, you’ve got to heal him. You’re his only hope. You can do it.”

Her resolve forms within her core, and her inner voice urges her on. “Yes. I’ll do it.”

“You are strong,” he tells her, and looks her in the eye. “Bring him back to us, Sakura. I couldn’t. You can.”

“I’ll bring him back for you,” she agrees, and remembers the madness Naruto faced, that mindless fury of when the nine-tailed demon fox clawed its way out into Naruto’s physical being and she screamed stop, stop, please, I’ll bring him back for you, I’ll do it all, just turn back to normal. Because she knows Naruto will tear himself apart for Sasuke, has already done so, and she still clings to that promise – and now it’s more important than ever.

She returns to her work with newfound strength, her tears dried, her emotions calmed. She picks up the scalpel, then pauses and turns to Naruto.

“You’re going to have to leave,” she tells him, pointing the scalpel at him in warning, “or I’ll give you a different reason to be in here.” Her smile is shaky, but sure.

He smiles back and nods. “I get it.”

—

As soon as the tiniest spark of consciousness appears in his mind, Sasuke grabs onto it and wrenches it open, and immediately he is awake. He remains still, however, his eyes closed, his breathing slow.

He is shackled, his wrists and ankles bound with cold metal that restricts his chakra to the confines of his own body. His bed is far from comfortable, but compared to what he’s had in days past it may as well be heaven. The silence that echoes around him tells him he is in a stone building, heavily reinforced. The space is small.

He is not alone.

He counts four presences: four strong, able, alert shinobi. They know he is awake.

Assured of his immediate safety, he turns to lesser inspections. His body feels like one large injury, but at least he is alive and nothing seems drastically damaged, which is a huge improvement on what he last knew. He can feel the effects of healing chakra in his body, its residue still lingering as it works with his own slowly replenishing energies in order to mend him. There is also an intravenous drip needle inserted in the back of his hand.

“How are you feeling?”

He opens his eyes, taking in the smooth, faultless grey stone of his tiny prison cell. Then, not without pain, he turns his head to look to his left, where a heavy metal grid obstructs his escape. A tall man is considering him through the eyes of an owl-faced mask. Straight, nondescript brown hair falls down his back, held neatly in a tie near the bottom. Sasuke experiences the feeling of being X-rayed.

“Relative to the last time I was conscious, quite well, Hyuuga Neji,” he replies calmly.

Neji removes his mask, loose hairs cascading around his face. His eyes, pale and blank, are fixed on the prisoner with mild disapproval.

“You are an internationally condemned criminal,” Neji states. “You’re supposed to be chained up in a top-security international prison, waiting to be tortured for information. What are you doing here, Uchiha Sasuke?” He spits the surname like poison.

Sasuke’s face is impassive, almost bored. “Don’t ask me. I didn’t ask to be put in a prison cell in Konohagakure.”

Neji’s eyes narrow slightly. “Our ANBU patrol found you unconscious outside of Konoha. I don’t know what you were up to, but I doubt finding yourself back in prison was part of your plan.”

“Dying wasn’t, either. I decided to choose the lesser of two evils.”

“You know, we could have shipped you back to the international prison,” says Neji, feeling impatient. “And you’d probably be in a worse state then. You’d better be thanking your lucky stars Naruto’s the Hokage. He’s the only person in the world who gives a shit about you.”

They know Naruto’s position is news to Sasuke, but the criminal shows no reaction. “Vulgar words coming from you, Hyuuga.”

“They’re about all that suits vermin like you, Uchiha.”

But Sasuke has already shut out the voice of his once-comrade. He turns back to face the ceiling once more and retreats into his own mind.

—

It is a few days later when one of the ANBU comes to report to the Hokage.

“You’re one of the guards for Uchiha Sasuke?” Naruto asks.

She nods. “Morning shift, Hokage. We’ve just switched with the afternoon shift.”

“How is he?”

“He eats what we give him, stretches a little, showers sometimes. Doesn’t do much else. We’ve been unable to get many words out of him. For all the information we’ve retrieved, he may as well still be unconscious.”

Naruto nods. He expected as much.

“Thank you,” he says to the kunoichi, standing. “You may go.”

She bows her head and vanishes.

The guards at the door of the prison bow too when Naruto approaches them. He nods to each, entering the building alone.

He knows where Sasuke would be kept. There is one cell, as far down and back as you can go in this place, removed from the rest of the cells, meant for solitary confinement. Fortunately in his time as Hokage he has never had to put someone in there, but they did give him a tour of the place early on.

The prison workers bow respectfully to him as he passes. The prisoners stare at him in weary silence. There are thieves, arsonists, murderers, rapists. When one prisoner flings himself against his bars, wailing for mercy, a shinobi guard snaps at him, reprimanding him for disrespecting their leader. Naruto winces and hurries on.

This is no place for his best friend.

He descends into the hall at whose other end sits the solitary confinement cell. This hall is blank, dark, lit by the odd torch set in a bracket on the wall. It echoes dismally with every step. He walks briskly; it distracts him from his hammering heart. He has had days to imagine this scene, this moment; but they have only made it worse, for a thousand what-ifs took root in his mind and now he is a jungle of paranoia. In the end he managed to hack through most of it with a simple blade: assume the worst.

He stops in front of the door. There is a small panel in the middle, at eye level, with a metal grid in the middle and a closed flap on the other side. He suppresses a new wave of unanswerable questions and knocks on the door. The flap opens and an ANBU mask appears, then the door swings in.

Naruto enters the chamber. It’s a square, maybe four metres to each side, the ceiling so low he could touch it with the tips of his fingers. A grid of bars divides the room horizontally, blocking off the back half. Four ANBU watch the prisoner from this side. In the cell, a small alcove provides a toilet, a shower, and other basic personal facilities, although there is no hope of privacy. The bed, nothing more than a metal bench with a thin mattress, sheets, and a pillow, takes up nearly a quarter of the space.

Lying upon the bed, as relaxed as any person might be while sleeping in their own room, is Uchiha Sasuke. Naruto can see where the manacles and chains have weighed down his too-thin wrists and ankles. They allow him enough freedom to pace the small cell. They suppress his chakra and hold him within the room should he somehow escape from the bars. The walls offer no purchase, show no weakness.

What sickens Naruto the most is that he knows none of this could stop Uchiha Sasuke from escaping if he really wanted to.

He watches the man, just lying there, breathing slowly, eyes closed. But Sasuke makes no move to begin a conversation; indeed, he neglects even to acknowledge the added presence in the room. He is not asleep, but, as the kunoichi reported, he might as well be.

Naruto feels a wave of something close to nausea overtake him. He turns to the ANBU guards.

“You can go,” he says. “I would like to speak to him alone.”

“But Hokage—”

“I’m not Hokage for nothing.” And, of course, if Sasuke really wanted to do him harm, there would be no stopping him anyway. “Please take a break and wait outside the door.”

They are uneasy, but Naruto has mastered the art of authority; he is confident and they eventually defer to him, closing the door behind them.

When the echoes of these sounds finally die, Naruto turns to the prisoner. _Why have you come back?_ he silently asks. _Why now? What’s on your mind, Sasuke?_

“So I see you’ve finally made it to the top, dunce.”

Naruto’s heart stops. He can feel it, the absence of a beat, two beats, three beats – and then blood-red eyes pierce his, and his body leaps back into action.

It’s that voice. That voice that taunted him, insulted him, argued with him so many times. The voice that had said, “I want to fight you, too;” the voice that had said, “I will kill you on a whim.” That voice was once young and passionate, eager for nothing but the mission to become the best. That voice is now ten years matured, hardened by loss and pain and as cold as a dead body. It’s the cold that lances through Naruto now, pumping his veins with ice. Sasuke is utterly ruthless, a true killer – a perfect shinobi.

A perfect shinobi is not human.

Naruto’s mind works faster than it’s ever worked before. Despite Sasuke’s lack of physical recognition signals, his use of the old insult – the nickname – means he has memories, which means he is acknowledging their relationship, which means he is still human. This is what Naruto clings to.

“I see you’ve wormed your way down to the bottom, bastard,” he replies, willing his voice to fill with authority and emotion and everything that Sasuke does not have. _We have always been different. We have always been opposites._

“It all depends on what you see as the bottom.”

“You’re in prison,” he says flatly.

Sasuke’s Sharingan fades and he crosses one leg over the other, bored. “Two weeks ago I was alone in a cold, lightless room, hanging chained to a wall to the point of immobility, blindfolded, tortured daily. One week ago I was dragging myself through a forest, dying. Now I’m no longer in a critical state and I have food, mobility, company, and a bed. Do the math, idiot.” His eyes flicker for a moment, but ultimately remain as an indiscernible black abyss.

“Why are you here?” he asks, choosing to (pretending to) ignore Sasuke’s words. “Come to destroy Konoha like you’d planned to so long ago?”

Sasuke’s face betrays the slightest emotion in that split second. “All those whom I want dead are, conveniently enough, dead.” A pause. “Incidentally, many of those whom I want alive are also dead.” He closes his eyes, like he doesn’t give a damn.

“Why are you here?” he repeats.

“Coincidence.” When Naruto stares blankly, Sasuke raises an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t ask to be imprisoned in Konoha.”

“Let me rephrase my question, then. Why have you broken out of prison? You’re internationally recognized as a threat to everyone.”

“You say it like a man in prison might _not_ want freedom.”

But Naruto’s lost track of his own question and, despite his resolution to treat Sasuke as a Hokage might treat a dangerous shinobi, he can’t deny how painfully familiar this face is.

“Sasuke,” he mutters, voice so quiet it is almost lost among the acoustics of the solid stone walls. “Why did you leave us?”

What little emotion was displayed on Sasuke’s face instantly vanishes.

“I am an avenger.”

“You can’t just abandon your comrades to—”

“I can do what I like,” he snaps, voice suddenly sharp with icicles. He sits up abruptly, finally talking directly to Naruto instead of at the ceiling as before. “There’s no progress in being stuck here with all you so-called shinobi focusing on world peace and loving everyone and forcing menial tasks on me. I had a goal. Sitting here rotting away did nothing to bring me closer to it.”

“You went to Orochimaru. You knew he wanted your body. You’d sacrifice your body for that goal? You’d risk losing your life, risk losing the chance of ever reaching it?”

“I risked nothing,” Sasuke snarls.

“Oh, because you were _so_ sure you could defeat one of the legendary Sannin,” Naruto retorts, and he’s losing control of himself, of the conversation; Sasuke is goading him again, pushing him deeper into the anger and the hatred and the thrill of fighting with his rival, and it feels so good that he is swallowing it all, voracious, his stomach a bottomless pit, his veins pumping with life at the contest. He can feel that fire, that passion he hasn’t felt in years and years, the passion he learned when he was forced to team up with a bastard who he knew deep down was better than him, the passion he should have felt when he became Hokage, the passion that died when his team dwindled from three to two. Sasuke took Naruto’s passion with him when he left, and now he’s giving it back and Naruto needs it like he needs air to breathe.

“I did, didn’t I?” Sasuke shrugs, his stoic attitude setting Naruto off again. “He’s dead, and I’m alive. Who’s the legend now?”

“You did the wrong thing, Sasuke!” Naruto shouts at him, because there’s no one else to shout at. “You were supposed to stay with us! We were a team! We could have – we could have helped you,” he chokes, his throat constricting. “You didn’t have to do it alone. You didn’t have to leave.”

“I did.” His eyes flicker red again as the blood of his ancestors roils within him. “It was my revenge. Not yours. Not Sakura’s. No one’s but mine. You couldn’t have helped me.”

“I know your story,” says Naruto. “Tobi told me.”

“Good for you.”

“You killed your brother, and then you found out why he did what he did.”

Sasuke glares. “Don’t talk to me about my brother.”

“Don’t you think that if you’d stayed, maybe you could have found out more?”

“There was nothing to find out!” Sasuke stands and slams himself against the metal grid, his chains clinking violently. Gripping the bars until his knuckles go white, he stares at Naruto, one blood-red eye framed in a square. “There was nothing here. Don’t you talk to me about my brother. Don’t talk like you know what loss is!”

Naruto staggers back as though he’s been pushed against the wall.

“You know nothing of loss,” Sasuke spits.

Naruto feels his heart clench, like someone’s grabbed it and is trying to tear it out. His gaze drops immediately, then he turns and walks to the exit. Good riddance, thinks Sasuke, and about time too – but Naruto stops with his hand on the doorknob.

“You’re wrong,” he mumbles. “I know what it’s like to lose someone.”

Sasuke snorts. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I know what it’s like to have your most important person ripped away from you. I know what it’s like to have to live with nothing but the memory of them every day. You never stop thinking about them. You lose all other focus in life. Nothing is more important than getting them back, nothing, not even becoming Hokage. Because nothing else will soothe the hole in your chest, and it gets bigger all the time.”

Naruto slowly turns around and looks at Sasuke. Really, truly _looks_ at him, and for the first time Sasuke can see, in those blue eyes, those eyes that used to be so bright, so alive, now dead – he can see the crystalline fragments of a shattered, empty heart embedded in the man’s spirit, causing him pain with every waking moment; he can see all those wounds, healed wrong or infected or still bleeding; he can see it all so clearly that were he to use his Sharingan the agony might blind him.

Naruto murmurs, almost inaudibly, “You taught me loss, Sasuke. You’re the person I lost.”

And he goes through the door, leaving Sasuke alone in his dark, cold cell.

—

When Neji arrives for his guard shift that night, it’s to find an uncharacteristically quiet Sasuke brooding in the corner on his bed. It’s not that Sasuke being quiet is uncharacteristic – no, not by far. It’s the quality of his silence that unnerves Neji. He never could understand what the boy was thinking. What’s to say the man isn’t plotting something now?

“Hyuuga.”

All his senses automatically focus on the prisoner. He senses no danger, but remains wary.

“Calm down,” Sasuke mutters, without much inflection. “I’m behind bars.”

“There’s a reason you’re guarded twenty-four hours a day,” he replies drily.

“Are you planning to do anything to me? Or is the Hokage going to keep allowing this drain on Konoha’s shinobi forces to go on forever?”

“The Hokage has no time to deal with a criminal like you. You’ll be processed when he gets to you.”

Sasuke looks away, his mind racing again. Neji really wants to know which of his words are being turned over in that unfathomable consciousness, what phrase sparked his mind.

“What did you want, then?” he asks, careful to make his tone just disdainful enough.

He doesn’t answer for a moment. Just as Neji is about to assume he isn’t going to get a reply, Sasuke says, “Shouldn’t you be doing something better than guarding me?”

“There’s no urgent need for all the ANBU teams out there.”

“You don’t want to be here, do you?”

“No, I would not in fact prefer to stand around for eight hours a day in the company of the man who made our Hokage moody and serious beyond his years.”

Sasuke raises an eyebrow in a casual, passive gesture, but inside his mind is turning its cogs faster than ever. “Oh?”

“You didn’t think Naruto was just being serious because he was visiting you, did you?” Neji folds his arms across his chest and leans against the wall. His blank eyes go oddly distant behind the sockets of his mask. “You knew Naruto better than anyone. He was always energetic, always passionate about everything.”

Sasuke says nothing, but he knows this is true. At least the insufferable blond, known for his unpredictability, never disappointed in that respect.

“You should have seen his face when he found out you were internationally condemned. He’d been working so hard to find you, and you brushed him off like so much dust. Do you know how much he wanted you back? Enough to give up his dream to become Hokage. You should know what that means.”

“Hn,” says Sasuke flatly.

Neji glares. “He gave up everything for you. He would have freed you from prison if he could. But even when he became Hokage he couldn’t, because you were convicted through international laws; even the power of the Hokage is not enough to overrule that.

“But he changed. It started even before you were convicted. He moped around for days on end. We would call him to go on missions; he would say he didn’t feel well. He lost all interest in anything. He stopped trying to improve his abilities. He changed, Uchiha Sasuke. Where did his energy go? His passion? His dreams?”

“Beats me.”

“It went with you,” says Neji. “You left, and you took all that with you. Naruto isn’t the same anymore.”

“Who is, after ten years?” says Sasuke, tone condescending. “And I wouldn’t want to know what this village might have become under the rule of a hyperactive Hokage.”

“The seventh Hokage has always been steadfast in times of trouble, but that’s something he had even before you left.”

“Is the demon fox still hanging around?” he asks, like he’s lost interest in the subject.

Neji’s eyes narrow. “That’s not information to which you are privy.”

“Considering you’ve basically told me your Hokage’s life story, I can’t say there’s much significant information left to add.”

“A person is not summarized in a paragraph or two, Uchiha Sasuke. Even for you, ‘internationally recognized criminal’ is not nearly enough to encompass the amount of pain you have caused some people.”

“You make it sound like you’re in love with him.”

“The village adores the Hokage. He has brought us many great things.”

“Right.”

“You try my patience, Uchiha,” he warns.

“I’ll shut up, then.” Sasuke lies down and turns his back to the ANBU.

—

Despite his upset state when he left, Naruto is unable to stay away; that very evening Sasuke is visited once more. This time he is half-sitting, half-lying on the bed, slumped against the wall, watching the quietly chatting guards with little interest. As with last time, they leave when the Hokage enters.

“Back so soon?” Sasuke asks, his voice completely devoid of emotion. “I didn’t know you missed me that much.”

Naruto frowns. His mind springs immediately to their previous conversation. _You know nothing of loss._ Does Sasuke realize the contradiction he’s just uttered?

“Sasuke, I need to know,” he says, as a friend and not as Hokage. “Why are you here, in Konoha?”

Whether Sasuke recognizes this appeal or not, he ignores it. “I already told you, it was coincidence. I was dying, so I made for the closest congregation of chakra I could sense.”

“Wouldn’t you want to stay away from people, being a criminal?”

He shrugged. “Either way I wouldn’t last long. Alone in the forest, the chance that someone might save me was next to none. Close to a village, I could either be killed, brought back to the international prison, or healed. Look where I am now.”

“Didn’t you ever miss Team Seven? Kakashi? Sakura?” _Or me?_ he adds silently.

“No.”

“We were a team. We worked together and bonded. You can’t honestly tell me you didn’t miss us at all.”

“My bonds had no importance in the face of my revenge.”

Implying you _did_ have those bonds, Naruto thinks.

Sasuke’s eyes bleed red and he stares at Naruto, piercing him to the core.

“Don’t put words in my mouth, moron.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Naruto says, but his soul has been shaken. Sasuke can read him. He can practically read his mind.

“You can see it, can’t you?” Sasuke asks. “I know what you’re thinking. I can see what you’re feeling.”

“Then tell me, Sasuke…” Naruto walks up to the bars, grips them in both hands, presses his face to the cold metal. He looks Sasuke right in those penetrating, icy eyes. “Tell me, can you see how hard I tried to get you back? Can you see what I’ve been through?”

Silence descends upon both of them, blue and red locked on one another, electric currents flying between. Then Sasuke closes his eyes and turns away.

“You wasted your energy.”

“Sasuke!”

“If you don’t mind, _Hokage_ , I’d like to get some rest now.” He lies down, turning his back to Naruto as he did to Neji.

A full minute later, neither of them has moved. Naruto is still as a statue.

“I can’t sleep with your eyes fixed on my back, idiot.”

Sasuke listens, timing in his head a moment of pause. He barely catches the muttered “Asshole” before footsteps and the swing of the door signal the departure of his once-rival.

—

It’s the middle of the next day when a pink-haired woman strides into the prison and slams her hands down on the front desk.

“I want to see Uchiha Sasuke.”

“I’m sorry, miss, but he’s not allowed visitors,” says the man who works there. “Very dangerous, you see, and in solitary confinement.”

“I’m here on behalf of the Hokage,” Sakura insists. “Please take me to Sasuke’s cell.”

He regards her determined face for a moment, then sighs. It’s against his better judgement; the Hokage is one thing, but extend the privilege to his secretary and who knows who might request an audience next? And she used the prisoner’s first name – that more than anything should have stopped him. But he doesn’t miss the way her grip tightens on the edge of the desk and the wood cracks under her fingers, and he decides it’s better not to argue with this woman.

“Very well. This way.”

—

Sakura is pleased to see the ANBU evacuate the room when she’s let in, as though this is standard procedure to them. It’s likely that Naruto’s been in a couple of times already. She waits until the door closes behind them, then turns to the man in the cell.

“Sasuke.”

He slowly opens his eyes to reveal his Sharingan.

“Long time no see,” he drawls.

“For your information, I hate you,” she spits. “You’ve seen Naruto, right? You’ve seen what you did to him?”

“For goodness’ sake, is everyone in this village obsessed with their Hokage?”

“I love Naruto dearly, and you’ve gone and changed him! Can’t you see what you’ve done?”

“Oh, so are you two a thing now? Did you finally decide to stop chasing after the most popular boy in the academy and try for someone a little closer to home?”

“For your information,” she says again, each word trembling, “we did date, for about a month. It didn’t work out. We decided we’re better off as friends. I love him like a brother. I’m sure you know how that feels, _Uchiha_ Sasuke.”

It’s hard to tell with Sasuke – it’s always been hard – but she thinks she’s hit a nerve. She figured he would be touchy about his family.

“Oh, yes. I know all about the bonds of brotherhood.”

She lets out a cry of frustration and slams herself against the bars, the metal denting under her steel grip. “Why don’t you fucking _care_?” she screams, hot tears stinging the corners of her eyes. “You killed your own brother! You loved him! And I loved you, but you just had to leave us all, didn’t you? You drove Naruto to madness! You didn’t see what he was like, when the Kyuubi overtook him! You didn’t see the way Chouji and Kiba and Shikamaru and Neji and Lee nearly died just to give Naruto a chance to find you, and you didn’t even have the guts to kill him, and you know why? It’s because you care. It’s because you care about him, because he’s always been your rival and your best friend and pushed you to be a better ninja, but you just won’t admit it because your head is too far up your ass for you to swallow your goddamn pride and admit you’re not a fucking iceberg!”

Spent, she collapses to her knees, sobbing. She feels like a teenager again, and it’s ridiculous, it really is, but this is what meeting old friends – old crushes, old loves – does to you. Sasuke is everything they lost of their childhood, and now it’s coming back, whether he wants to give it back or not.

She hears the clinking of metal and looks up, but Sasuke has only shifted into a more comfortable position. When his eyes meet hers, however, they are no longer red, but the deep, fathomless black she used to swoon over as a twelve-year-old girl; and perhaps those eyes are sharper, colder than before, but they are still the same eyes, and he is still the same Sasuke.

“If you’re not careful, you’ll leave a hole big enough for me to escape through,” he comments. Sakura looks up to where her fingers are still clutching the metal and quickly lets go, standing so fast the blood rushes to her head all at once and she sways.

“Fuck you,” she snarls, and leaves, slamming the door so hard it bounces back open again. Sasuke dimly reflects on how common it seems to be becoming to have his visitors storm out like that.

—

Sasuke has no company but that of the ANBU teams for the next few days. It’s of no matter to him; he has always been solitary, anyway, and the peace is welcome as he focuses on healing his body. He works his muscles a little more each day, and soon the doctor – no one he knows, thank goodness, or he might have to sit through another angry lecture and abrupt abandonment – comes to check up on him, proclaims him well enough to continue healing on his own, and takes away the IV drip.

The ANBU attempt to talk with him from time to time. Usually they just chat amongst themselves, but on occasion they turn to him and try their hand at a little conversation with the criminal. Well, he’s not _stupid_. They taunt him, then they try psychological games. They want information. There isn’t much to tell, but he likes to lead them on. Call it a sort of game of his own in retaliation to theirs. So far, he’s winning.

—

The next time Naruto visits, he makes a point of bringing a chair.

“Did I ever invite you to make yourself comfortable?” Sasuke asks darkly as the Hokage seats himself in a corner, facing the prisoner.

Naruto raises an eyebrow. There are so many things wrong with that question that he won’t even get started on them. Luckily, Sasuke appears to consider it rhetorical. He decides to pose another question, with the purpose of getting an answer this time. He tilts his head casually as he watches Naruto through bored eyes.

“To what do I owe the honour of the Hokage’s company, then?”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe to the fact that someone who was once my best friend is now sitting in solitary confinement?”

“Of course.” Sasuke looks away again, setting Naruto off. Can’t he even _pretend_ to care? He asks almost critically, “Hasn’t a Hokage got more important things to do than to engage in trivial chatter with a criminal?”

“I’ve worked my ass off for the past week,” Naruto retorts. The truth is, he does still have piles of work to do, but he’s been so anxious to talk to Sasuke again that he couldn’t concentrate any longer.

“Hn. What’s it like, then, being the best ninja out there?”

Naruto sighs, but Sasuke doesn’t miss the spark of life that lights those blue eyes. “A ton of paperwork – sorting through requested missions, discussing issues with the feudal lords – and then there’s stuff like visiting the academy and maintaining relations with other hidden villages, although that’s not so bad, ‘cause I get to talk to Gaara pretty often.”

“Ah, yes… Gaara of the Desert. The insomniac. Jinchuuriki of the Ichibi.”

“Yeah, before Akatsuki got him.”

“And he lives?”

“An elder from their village sacrificed her life to revive him. He’s doing well, actually. You would never know he’d died.”

“I don’t suppose many people can identify a previously dead person.”

“Well no, it’s not every day you get to meet someone who died and came back to life.”

Sasuke raises his eyebrow. “That’s what I was getting at, idiot.”

“Well _sorry_ if your smart-ass comments are too fucking subtle for me,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I’m not exactly the sharpest tack in the drawer here.”

“At least you’re aware of it. What are you doing in the Hokage’s robes if you can’t even parse a simple remark?”

“I don’t need to be able to decipher your inside jokes to be the best ninja around, bastard!”

“Sakura’s a lot smarter than you; why isn’t she the Hokage?”

Naruto is a little surprised at this, less by the question Sasuke asked and more by the sheer fact that he mentioned Sakura at all. “She’s my assistant,” he says.

“Oh, was it a boss-secretary type of relationship, then?”

“What?”

“I heard you two were an item for a short period of time.”

“That was before I became Hokage, bastard,” he growls. “Who’d you get that from anyway?”

“A little bird told me.”

“Fine.” Naruto crosses his arms. “Just so you know, no one else missed you much.”

“I’m _wounded_ ,” he says.

“Stop being smarmy, ass.”

“Why don’t you go on, then? Perhaps if you tell me all about how little anyone’s thought of me, I’ll actually feel bad.”

“What did I _just_ say?” Naruto says, but complies anyway. “Everyone’s got better things to do than chase after a selfish fucker who inherited the ability to bleed out of his eye sockets. Kiba’s got litters of puppies to look after now—”

“So he was a dog after all?”

“What? No, idiot, Akamaru! He’s huge, bigger than a horse, and he’s a grandfather. Little yappers running around all over the place. Kiba trains ninja who want to be trackers and they get dog partners. You already know Neji’s ANBU; so are Shikamaru, Ino, and Shino. Everyone else is Jounin. ANBU’s pretty tough. I was one for a little while but it’s just not as… normal, y’know?”

“Yes, I obviously know all about how abnormal it feels to be an ANBU.”

“For fuck’s sake, Sasuke.”

“I’m sorry, did I offend you?”

Naruto groans and slaps a hand to his face. “I don’t know why I even bother.”

“I’d like to know that too, actually,” says Sasuke, looking at him (Naruto notices how rare this is). “Why, oh brilliant, enlightened Hokage, were you so bent on retrieving a traitorous – how did you put it? ‘Selfish fucker’? Why would you go to all the trouble to drag home the ass of a traitorous, selfish fucker who gets on your nerves with every sentence?”

“Oh, I dunno, because you were my teammate? My best friend? You nearly died to save me and I returned the favour? Does none of this ring a bell?”

Sasuke makes a show of thinking about it. “Hmm… no, no bells.”

Naruto rolls his eyes. “Well, you asked.”

“Hn.”

“What is that even supposed to mean?”

He raises an eyebrow at him as though saying, _Are you serious_?

“What?” asks Naruto, feeling somewhat insulted.

“Oh, only that I’d forgotten how much of a blockhead you are.”

He expects Naruto to blow up at this, but instead the blond _smiles_. Like he takes it as a compliment or something.

“I’d forgotten how much you used to call me that,” he says.

“It’s supposed to be an insult, idiot.”

“I know! You always said I was an idiot ‘cause, well, I really was. And I always got pissed at you. Remember?”

“Unfortunately I do. I also happened to notice that you’re speaking in the past tense.”

“I’ve changed, Sasuke. I’m not the kid who always pulled pranks. I’m not the kid who got tied to the log when Kakashi tested us for the first time.”

“You’ll always be a blockhead, blockhead.”

“Heh. I know.” Once again the corners of his mouth tug upwards, which annoys Sasuke more than anything – even more than the sparkle in those blue eyes. So he doesn’t answer.

“What about you?” Naruto asks, smile fading. “You’re not the kid who beat up the ninja who ambushed Sakura in the Chuunin exams. You’re not the kid who moved without thinking to protect me from Haku’s needles.”

Sasuke remembers that one. It only instils confusion and conflict in his heart, so he’s gotten good at pushing it away. But he’s in luck, because Naruto doesn’t press the issue, instead asking, “Sasuke, who have you become?”

“I haven’t changed,” he states. “I am still an avenger. I still act only for my own benefit. That has always been my way.”

Naruto sighs. _Sasuke doesn’t really understand, does he?_ He stands up and puts his Hokage hat back on his head.

“Well,” he says, “if getting out of prison is to your benefit, I suggest you think over your ideals a little. I’ll see you around, Sasuke.”

Sasuke scoffs. “Around? There aren’t many places I can be around, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“You know what I mean, smart-ass. Later.”

He leaves the room swiftly, nodding to the ANBU team outside the door. Neji puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Got anything out of him?” he asks quietly as the others head in to guard the prisoner.

Naruto glances wearily back at the door. “I don’t know what he’s thinking. I never knew what Sasuke was thinking, Neji.”

“If you don’t, who does?”

He shakes his head as if to say _I don’t know_.

“He says next to nothing whenever we try to talk to him,” Neji says. “Some smart-ass comments, a couple of questions, but no words that seem to indicate an interest in anything.”

“The smart-ass comments sound about right,” says Naruto, pulling a face. “He did ask me about what it’s like being Hokage, though, and then we talked a bit about some people we know.”

Neji seems surprised by this. “Really?”

“What, is that unusual?”

“I tried to goad him into conversation by mentioning Rookie Nine and some other people, but he didn’t say anything. Not even when I told him Kakashi had passed on.”

Naruto frowns. Not even Kakashi’s death moved that bastard? He’d always thought Sasuke had been the closest to Kakashi out of the three of them. Doesn’t he care at all?

“I don’t think it’s the subject that gets him going, Naruto,” says Neji.

“What, then?” he asks, frustrated.

“I think it’s you.”

Naruto’s eyes widen.

“He doesn’t mean to show it – perhaps he doesn’t even know it himself – but his interest always piques when I talk about you. Even behind all the insults.” Neji looks at him meaningfully. “Unfathomable perhaps, but sometimes Uchiha Sasuke is despairingly incapable of cloaking his lies.”

Neji watches as tiny fragments, the shattered pieces lying in those blue eyes, begin to sew themselves back together – just a few, but enough to put a small light back in there. He smiles behind his mask and is surprised to see Naruto’s lips mirror the hidden action. Naruto hasn’t really smiled since he became Hokage, and even then it lacked the joy that should have been present in the man’s face. Now, as the corners of Naruto’s mouth lift slightly, Neji sees a piece of the boy who taught him that fate can change.

—

The next few weeks see a drastic change in the village’s leader. The people, knowing and respecting their Hokage as a serious, quiet man, are now abuzz with chatter as they are shown a Naruto who grins, who laughs, who makes jokes and enjoys life. It’s not that he was never friendly or kind – he has by far been one of the nicest leaders they’ve known – but they have never seen this lighter, more carefree side of him.

Those who have – his teachers, his peers, his now-Chuunin team led by Konohamaru – those who knew the hyperactive Naruto, the number one ninja in unpredictability, the goofy idiot who always had a grin on his face – they can already feel the effect of his optimism rippling through the village, through themselves. Somehow, _somehow_ , the old Naruto is coming back. The Naruto they knew and loved. Uzumaki Naruto, the monster carrier who would become Hokage. Konoha hasn’t been the same without him. They are happy because Naruto is happy; his positivity has always been contagious and it won’t be long before the little village is bursting with life as it hasn’t for years.

“Why are you always so goddamn _happy_?”

Naruto stretches in his chair and grins at Sasuke. “Dunno. Why shouldn’t I be?”

Sasuke scowls in contrast, recalling what Naruto told him yesterday. “You’re swamped in paperwork. You never liked negotiating with Sound. The earthquake sent dozens of people to the hospital and Sakura’s too busy there to help you out.”

Naruto shrugs. “No one was seriously injured. It was a minor quake, and I have full confidence in Sakura and the other medics. As for Sound, they’re being surprisingly friendly lately, you know. Paperwork, well, you can never get anything good out of paperwork, so why grumble?”

“That’s precisely _why_ anyone would grumble, retard.”

“Well, I guess that’s the difference between you and me, then.” He smiles at Sasuke, whose brow remains furrowed.

“I apologize for being unable to muster much optimism when I’m locked in an eight-metre-cubed cell with no one for company but three snarky ANBU teams and a loud idiot.”

“It’s funny, y’know. The first time I came to see you, you were telling me how good your life was, not dying and all that. Wassamatter, Sasuke? Tired of not dying? Want me to rupture a couple of vital organs for you?”

Though Naruto’s tone is bantering and his face is casual, Sasuke doesn’t miss the flash of a sharp blade in his hand. The next moment, however, it’s gone. Perhaps the dunce really has improved his skills somewhat over the past few years. Well, it would be fairly pathetic if he hadn’t after all this time, and certainly he wasn’t Hokage material last Sasuke saw him.

“I’ll pass, thanks, Hokage,” he mutters, and slides down until he’s lying on the bed. He jams his hands under the pillow and crosses one leg over the other and turns his head to look at Naruto. “So when do I get out of here? I can’t exactly prove my innocence while I’m locked up.”

“Oh, I dunno,” says Naruto casually, as though it doesn’t really matter.

Sasuke glares.

“Well you _are_ internationally wanted. I can’t just let you out ‘cause you’re my best friend.”

For some reason this bothers Sasuke. It’s not that Naruto’s falsely accusing him, or that he feels as though he deserves special treatment as the Hokage’s best friend. No, that’s not it. Why does that statement irk him so?

“Sorry, jerk, that’s how it is. Not even the Hokage can do whatever he wants.”

“I never expected to be given privileges for my relationship with you.”

“You do admit that relationship exists, though?”

Sasuke looks up at this, for Naruto’s tone has ceased to be casual. He is watching Sasuke intently.

“It would be pushing it to say there was never anything between us, moron. We were both in Team Seven, after all.”

Naruto frowns. “Is that it? I’m just another guy in your old three-man cell? That’s all any of this has ever been to you?”

He almost wishes Sasuke would use his Sharingan; he can barely stop himself from screaming out, _Can’t you see?_ But Sasuke’s eyes remain torturously black – they remain steely, icy, and without the insight of his bloodline ability Sasuke is stubbornly blind to emotions.

Whatever the reason, Sasuke does not deign to reply. Naruto hopes with every fibre of his being that it isn’t because the answer is yes.

—

“How’s Sasuke?” Sakura asks the Hokage.

Naruto is standing by the window of his office, looking out at his sun-soaked village. Long shadows streak across the streets and houses glowing orange. From here he can just make out the distant prison building.

He sighs and returns to his chair. “No progress.”

“He isn’t anxious to get out?”

“Oh, probably. But you know Sasuke…” He pauses for a moment as he realizes the implications of that phrase. _We knew Sasuke, once. And now?_ Once more he sighs, then goes on, “You know how he is. He’d never admit it.”

“Yeah…” She folds her arms on the desk and rests her chin on them. “It’s problematic, isn’t it?”

Naruto shrugs. “It’s the entire point of this whole thing. He can’t be let out if he doesn’t realize what he’s done is wrong.”

Though his tone is easy, like he’s explaining a basic fact, the glint of his eyes doesn’t escape Sakura’s notice. She can’t help but wonder at how everything seems to have turned upside-down. When it all started, Sasuke was the popular one, while Naruto was a loner. Sasuke was the top of the class, Naruto dead last. Sasuke was brilliant, Naruto a blockhead. Now? Now Sasuke’s a cold-hearted criminal with no one at all and Naruto is loved by his people. Sasuke is in prison and Naruto is Hokage. Sasuke is too blind to see what Naruto is trying to teach him.

For this was all Naruto’s idea. True, it’s not often Naruto has a stroke of genius; he’s still a bit of a dunce at times, but he’s also still unfailingly unpredictable. Naruto is frustrated with Sasuke’s position: his best friend is in prison, but he can’t just let him out, even as Hokage. But then he got one of those rare sparks, the ones that crash like lightning. It would be hard – Sasuke clings to his pride like a lifeline and Naruto isn’t the best at being subtle – but Sakura has confidence in the Hokage. If it’s matters of the heart that need to be exposed, Naruto will get them across. No matter how long it takes. No matter how it’s got to be done.

“You can do it,” she says. “I know you can.”

He nods. “Don’t worry, Sakura. I’ll bring him around.”

—

Naruto is due to make a trip to Suna the next day, so it’s nearly two weeks before he can visit Sasuke again. When he returns, the prison is his first stop, even before home. He’s practically trailing sand down into the dungeon.

“Where the hell have you been, idiot? You reek. I thought you might have left me here to rot.”

Naruto just smirks at this and flops down on the chair. “I didn’t know you missed me that much.”

Sasuke does not react to this, but he remembers saying those exact words to Naruto in this very room not so long ago. The difference is that Naruto very nearly means it.

“Of course,” he replies airily. “I was _so_ lonely without your company. How painful the silence was. How awful that I couldn’t hear your raucous voice for two whole weeks. Whatever was I to do.”

“Ass.”

“You need a shower.”

Naruto raises an arm, sniffs, and wrinkles his nose. “I do. Can I use yours?”

Sasuke scoffs. “Excuse me?”

“Well, why not? It’s right here. You don’t have to watch if you don’t want to.” He grins cheekily.

“Wouldn’t you be afraid of me killing you while you’re vulnerable?”

“You really think a Hokage is ever vulnerable?” asks Naruto even as he dangles his limbs lazily, his body draped over more than sitting on the chair.

“Hokage is not a synonym for invincible, idiot.”

He shrugs. “I’ll take my chances. Can I come in then?”

Sasuke rolls his eyes. “It’s not like I have much of a say.”

Naruto nods, then gets up, goes to the cell door, and pulls out a key.

“You got the key to my cell?”

“I’ve always had one, in case I ever deem you fit to be released.” He enters the cell, reaching through a space in the bars to lock it up again, then, making sure Sasuke is watching, puts it in his mouth and swallows it. He opens his mouth once more to show it’s gone.

Sasuke’s eyes narrow in displeasure. “Who’d you learn that from, Orochimaru?”

“As if I’d ever want to learn from that creep.” Naruto enters the alcove and begins to strip, blocked from Sasuke’s view by the corner of the wall. “No, this is a frog trick. Gamabunta showed me.”

Sasuke closes his eyes as the sound of the shower starts up. Neither party shows any signs of discomfort or tension. They’ve had hot spring trips, they’ve encountered accidents; by now, even if it’s been years and years, even if they’ve grown and matured in body as well as in mind and spirit, they really couldn’t care less. And anyway, it’s not like either of them wants to see or be seen. Sasuke stays on his bed in his corner, and Naruto stays within the alcove, humming quietly to himself.

After a few minutes, Naruto’s voice rises over the sound of the water: “So, given any more thought to your predicament, Sasuke?”

“Seeing as how I’m here twenty four hours a day against my wishes, I’m going to say… no.”

“Talked with Neji at all lately?”

“I haven’t used my voice since you last showed your ugly mug.”

“I’m honoured.” Naruto doesn’t admit he’s not actually being sarcastic here. “Does he at least tell you about the village?”

“He’s done so far too many times for my liking. Rather, he tells me about you. It’s always Hokage this and Hokage that. You would think he’d fallen in love with you.”

“Well, that wouldn’t be hard, with my dashing good looks and astounding charisma.”

“Even for men?”

“Even for men.” Naruto pauses. “Sasuke?”

“Oh, were you talking to me? I thought there was someone else in this room.” He rolls his eyes, although Naruto can’t see this. “What, retard?”

“Have you ever loved anyone?”

He snorts. “Idiot. Why do you think I wanted to kill Itachi?”

“I mean, someone besides your family. Have you ever fallen in love?”

“Love is a noose. Love is weakness. A true ninja has no weaknesses.”

“Then I guess ninjas would die out pretty quickly,” says Naruto. “My dad was a ninja. He was a Hokage. The best ninja in the village, Sasuke, and he fell in love, didn’t he?”

“I didn’t fail to notice he gave up his newborn baby’s chance for a normal life in order to save his village.”

“The suffering of one may be the salvation of many. I haven’t suffered unduly.”

“How can you say that? You spent your entire childhood being hated.”

“And you spent all of yours hating.” The water stops, and now only the occasional drip echoes in the small room before the rustle of cloth takes up the slack. “I don’t know about you, but I think one of us came out a little better than the other.”

Sasuke can’t deny this; there’s no way to refute the statement that being Hokage is better than being in prison, so he remains silent.

“It’s not how we’ve been seen, but how we’ve seen others, that’s led to our current situations. Do you understand that?”

Sasuke bothers to think about it. “There isn’t necessarily a correlation.”

“Sure there is. I care about others, which is why I was chosen as Hokage. I love this village and its people, and in turn they’ve come to respect me. You hated your brother, hated the village, always hated. And so people hate you back.”

“Then by your logic, since you were hated as a child, you should have hated the village.”

“No.” Naruto emerges from the alcove, clothed in the plain black outfit he wears under his Hokage robes, towelling his hair. He smiles at Sasuke. “That’s where I made a choice. The choice to change something, to start something new.”

“I loved once,” Sasuke spits. “I loved Itachi. And what did he do to me? He massacred my family, he ripped my childhood apart. He betrayed me. And you wonder why I hate.” He turns away, because Naruto’s kind eyes are taunting him, hurting him.

He jumps a little when he hears shuffling. Turning back quickly, he sees that Naruto’s seated himself on the end of the bed, towel slung through one of the holes in the metal grid. He chastises himself for having not noticed him nearing. Maybe prison has lulled him into complacency, ensuring he’d never be approached because there is never anyone else on his side of the bars. Maybe Naruto’s just gotten that good.

“Sasuke,” says Naruto, “you still love Itachi, don’t you?”

“No.”

“You’re fooling no one but yourself. Why else would you choose to destroy Konoha? You wanted to avenge him, to hurt those who’d hurt him and who in turn caused you to kill him.”

“I’m done with that plan,” Sasuke grits out between his teeth. “Your precious village is safe from the likes of me, prisoner or not.”

“Why?”

“On a whim. Just as I chose to spare you on a whim, as I chose to kill you on a whim. Never mind that your teammates saved you.”

“You don’t really want to destroy the village, do you?”

“You’re pushing me pretty close,” he growls.

“We’re all you have.”

Sasuke momentarily forgets how to breathe as his stomach twists and his throat constricts.

“You told me so yourself. Everyone you want dead is dead, and most of the people you want alive are also dead. Your family is dead. Itachi is dead. Orochimaru, Akatsuki, Madara, Hawk – everyone you associated with is gone. Why did you choose to come to Konoha?”

“That was a coincidence,” Sasuke snaps.

“There are no other villages for a rather long way around, Sasuke. Why would you even be in the vicinity? How could you not know?”

In a flash Sasuke is in front of Naruto and one hand is at Naruto’s throat and the other is pressed against the wall, bringing him into a looming, overpowering position above the Hokage. Naruto does not flinch. He does not even blink. He just looks up at Sasuke, his clear blue eyes piercing the raven-haired man like his Sharingan has never been able to pierce anyone, and Sasuke’s hand is frozen where it is, unable to close any tighter around that fragile human neck.

“All that’s left to you is people and places from your distant past, from your childhood,” says Naruto, calm.

“I have no desire to associate with you,” he snarls, trying to stop his trembling because Naruto will feel it against his throat, see it in the proximity of Sasuke’s body, sense it the way predators can sense fear. “I have no bonds with this place or anyone in it.”

“Your entire life has been dedicated to your bonds, Sasuke. Why kill Itachi? Why aim to destroy Konoha? Because you wanted someone back, but you couldn’t get them. You know, Sasuke, I think your capacity to love is greater than mine.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he snarls, eyes blazing. “I have no heart anymore. Whatever might have been there was ripped out by numerous betrayals and losses.”

“Do you regret killing Itachi?”

Sasuke flinches back as though burned, slamming against the bars. His eyes flash between black and red several times, not in anger, but in panic.

“Of course you do,” says Naruto. “All you knew was that he’d killed your family, so you killed him. And then you found out his motive was greater than that, and that he loved you. So instead of stagnating in regret, you pushed yourself to more revenge. It was the logical thing to do.”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Sasuke shouts, his voice furious; but his expression is pained, his face suddenly alive with emotion like Naruto hasn’t seen since their fight at the Valley of the End. Like he himself hasn’t felt since then. “How was I supposed to know? No one ever fucking told me!”

“I’m not saying it was your fault.” Naruto stands slowly, calmly, and Sasuke presses further back as though trying to melt into the bars.

“Itachi—” Sasuke’s voice suddenly evaporates into a thin hiss of air. “…I loved him. I loved him, and I killed him! Can’t you understand how much that hurt? Do you not understand how fucking angry I was?”

Naruto nods. “I understand.”

As though those two words were a pin thrust into a balloon, Sasuke deflates. He slides down the metal grid and slumps on the floor, shaking, his fingers tangled desperately in his hair. Naruto kneels down in front of him and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“I killed him,” Sasuke is whispering. “I thought he hated me, I thought he hated my family, so I killed him. He’s gone. Everyone is gone.”

“Sasuke, look at me.” When Sasuke doesn’t, Naruto grabs his chin and forces him to look. There are no tears, but seeing the pain in Sasuke’s wild eyes is worse than seeing him crying.

“Look at me. I’m here. I’m not gone.”

“Naruto—”

“Right?”

Sasuke searches those eyes for a long time, boring into them, looking for any sign of hostility, doubt, even indifference. There is absolutely none.

“There is a place for you, right here in Konoha. With me. With Sakura. With all of us.”

“I killed him, Naruto,” he chokes. “If only I’d known – if only I could have him back…”

Naruto just nods again, and Sasuke knows he understands everything.

“I’ve never cut a bond in my life, Naruto.”

Nod.

“You’ve known it all along.”

“Yes.”

Sasuke opens his mouth, takes a deep breath, and forces out the words he’s never admitted to, the words he’s always been too proud to say, the words he’s refused to accept his entire life:

“I’m sorry.”

—

Naruto lets Sasuke out on probation. There’s no way he can simply be freed; indeed, many of the higher-ups in Konoha doubt Naruto’s decision to even let him out. He can’t be trusted, they say; what if Sasuke was just lying? What if he was using his influence on their Hokage (for they’re all aware of Naruto and Sasuke’s history) as well as Naruto’s often naïve willingness to believe that absolutely anyone can redeem themselves? In the end, Sasuke is put under a sort of house arrest, carefully guarded by the same ANBU teams as before in the room Naruto has lent him. The guards refuse to let Sasuke stay in the room right next to the Hokage’s, so Sasuke is given a place across the floor from Naruto’s room in the Hokage’s tower and allowed to roam the building, but not go outside it. Despite their strict defences, however, they can’t stop Naruto from insisting he’ll be fine in his own office when he’s awake, alert, and in the company of Sakura. He very nearly has to lock the ANBU teams out when Sasuke’s in the office, but in the end they defer to him. They always do.

Naruto makes a point of being around Sasuke as often as possible. Sakura is witness to Naruto’s frustration whenever he has to be holed up in his office and Sasuke’s wandering the tower, and his negligible productivity when Sasuke is around for lack of anywhere better to go. She herself can barely restrain herself from pummelling Sasuke – again. When he first walked into her sight, she hugged him hard, then punched him across the room with enough strength to knock him out. She later had to put back all the books his flying body had knocked over. She was fuming the entire time.

After a week, Sakura isn’t entirely sure whether Sasuke’s reappearance is good or bad. Naruto is so distracted that he can’t work whether Sasuke is in the room or not, for different reasons in each case. Urgent tasks are finished at the last minute, and the rest has barely been touched. And she isn’t faring much better, whenever Sasuke is around anyway: she can’t seem to stop looking at him, finding herself stopped in the middle of doing something with her unfocused gaze on him. She doesn’t know how to feel anymore. She loved him once, and then he was gone. So she pushed his memory away. Now that he’s back after she’s tried to forget him, what is she to do?

“Sakura, you’re staring again.”

She flinches out of her stupor, blinking at Sasuke, whose lean form is relaxed on the couch with his hands in his pockets and one ankle resting on the opposite knee. Since his own clothes were ruined upon arrival and he’s been in prison slacks from then on, he’s had to borrow clothes from Naruto. In the end the only thing he could stand in the hyperactive blond’s wardrobe was a black T-shirt and black sweats, so now, looking like a ghost in black sheets that are a little too big for his slender frame, he looks back at her through impassive eyes.

“Sorry,” she mutters, and continues to the shelf to put away some books. _Stupid!_ she berates herself. _What am I doing?_

“Sakura, those go on the other shelf,” Naruto calls from his desk, then sticks his fingers through his hair and groans in frustration. “Dammit! This makes no sense.”

Sakura sighs, leaves the books in a stack on the floor, and goes over to help Naruto. “What is it now?”

“It’s a message in code from the shinobi who kidnapped that feudal lord. Konohamaru’s team obtained this information and gave it to me this morning, but I just can’t figure it out.”

“Hn,” says Sasuke. “Why would they give _you_ a code?”

“Well, they reported to me after all,” Naruto grunts. “I figured I’d have a look at it before sending it off to the decryption lab.”

Sakura takes the scroll and glances it over. It looks like sheet music. “This is a code? Naruto, how would you know that?”

Naruto doesn’t turn a hair at the implication that he wouldn’t be able to figure that sort of thing out. “Like I said, Konohamaru’s team got the info. Why would they write it in code anyway? What’s the point in sending information someone has to parse? If it has to be hidden, don’t send it at all!”

“Obviously the intended receiver would know how to read it,” says Sasuke. “Let me see that.”

Sakura rolls it up and tosses it to him. He opens it and scans it momentarily. Then he snorts.

“They’ve got the feudal lord in the Nightingale Temple. They expect half a million yen in exchange for the feudal lord from the recipient. His or her name isn’t on the scroll.”

“You can read it?” Naruto exclaims, standing up and hurrying over. Sakura goes too, and they huddle around Sasuke and the scroll. He glances over at Naruto’s proximity, but does not comment.

“The different note values mean different vowels, and the position on the staff is the consonant. It works like hiragana. Orochimaru used this notation for everything.”

“Whoa.” Naruto sits down, but since Sasuke is on the far side of the couch and Naruto’s at the end of that, he ends up sort of squishing up against the Uchiha, who scowls silently. Sakura, in the meantime, is grabbing a pen and notepad.

“Sasuke,” she says, “read it out.”

He recites the scroll, and she writes it all down. When it’s done, she looks it over again quickly, then turns to the door. “I’ll send Konohamaru’s team back out.”

“Wait,” says Naruto. “They just got back; give them a break. We’re ahead of schedule now that we’ve cracked the code, and anyway, there are other mission requests I want you to take down at the same time.”

“Alright,” she agrees. It’s one of those times she wonders when Naruto became so logical, so efficient.

“Well, that’s one problem solved,” says Naruto. “Part of it, anyway. What’s next?”

“You’ve got to keep things up with Sound,” Sakura reminds him. “You need to reply to that letter soon.”

Naruto’s face falls. Sasuke doesn’t fail to notice this, nor to call him on it.

“I thought you said relations with Sound were getting better?” he asks.

“They were, two weeks ago,” Naruto mutters.

“And then?”

“I don’t know. It seems they’re just suddenly getting snappy about everything. I mean, they’re not exactly friends; I’m going out of my way not to insult them or say anything that might offend them, but it’s like they’re _looking_ for something to complain about.”

Sasuke shrugs. “Politics.”

Sakura suggests, “Naruto, why don’t you go out for a bit? You’ve been in here all week with the paperwork. Take a break.”

“Yeah, okay.” He sets his hat on the desk, then stands and stretches. “Sasuke, wanna come?”

He raises an eyebrow at the idiot. “I’m under house arrest, dolt.”

“We’ll be fine. We can get the ANBU to accompany us if they’re that paranoid.”

“Aren’t you ‘that paranoid’?” Sasuke asks, an edge of amusement in his voice.

“Me? Nope! I trust you.” Naruto grins. “But then I’m biased, and sometimes it’s better to let those worrywarts do what they want.”

“That’s very self-aware of you.”

Naruto shrugs. “Nobody’s perfect. The first step to perfection is realizing one’s mistakes. Then it’s admitting them, and then working to fix them.”

Sasuke’s eyes flash, then his gaze falls to the floor next to Naruto’s feet. “What if you can’t fix your mistakes?”

Naruto’s smile falters a little at this. He watches Sasuke’s stoic figure, knowing full well that the raven-haired man isn’t as icy as he makes himself out to be. Sasuke’s got more fire inside than anyone Naruto knows.

“Then all you can do is prevent yourself from repeating them. That’s a type of fixing too. You can always learn something.”

A hand comes into Sasuke’s view. He looks up to see it attached to Naruto’s arm – although he doesn’t need to look to know who it is.

“Come on. You haven’t seen the village yet.”

Sasuke looks at the hand a moment longer. It’s an invitation, an acceptance, an open palm, open arms.

He nods shortly and takes the hand.

—

Naruto lets Sasuke direct them. Even after ten years, even after a huge battle that destroyed half of Konoha, even after earthquakes and construction and renovations, Sasuke’s feet still know how to bring them where he wants to go. They’re not too far from the Hokage’s tower before Naruto guesses where they’re going, because there is no other reason to head this way.

“Sasuke,” he says quietly, “the Uchiha estate was destroyed in the earthquake.”

Sasuke does not slow down. He does not react. He simply continues to walk, as though in a trance, although Naruto can tell he has been heard.

“I put up a memorial where the entrance used to be.”

Sasuke nods and keeps walking.

The memorial is a stone as tall as Naruto, shaped like an Uchiha fan, white marble on the bottom and red marble on the top. Around its base is a black marble square with a short inscription describing the truth of the Uchiha massacre. A couple of half-burned sticks of incense are sticking out of a little pot of ash, and someone has left flowers within the past few days.

Sasuke and Naruto stand side by side in front of the memorial. Naruto offers one of his frequent, brief prayers, bowing his head respectfully, then turns to Sasuke, whose stormy eyes are fixed on the dark red marble as though about to absorb the colour into their irises. He stands there for a full minute, and Naruto begins to think that perhaps this is Sasuke’s way of communicating his angry, frustrated, bitter prayers in the hopes that one day he might be able to look back on it all without that burning furious fire.

“Let’s go,” he mumbles, so quietly that Naruto next to him can barely hear.

—

Although they walk side by side, it is Sasuke who leads the way, walking slowly, looking around and observing the village, the newly paved streets and recent buildings contrasting sharply with the older ones that withstood the quake, as well as the numerous areas still under construction. Konoha is a patchwork of architecture, but not much has changed. This is what Sasuke sees. His feet know the roads as though he has walked them daily for the past year, although his eyes take in the newness of everything around. Vibrant colours stand next to faded paint and worn-down cobblestones meet clean-cut new ones. Sasuke’s feet take him everywhere, and Naruto follows beside. They walk in complete silence.

The world around them, however, is not so quiet. At first Naruto receives the occasional wave or call hello, to which he responds with a smile and a nod, aware of Sasuke’s wordless mood. Then people notice his company, and the whispers begin:

 _That man, he’s an Uchiha, isn’t he? I thought they were all gone._

 _Wait, isn’t that Uchiha Sasuke? The criminal? What’s he doing here?_

 _The Hokage is walking with him._

 _Weren’t they best friends as children?_

 _If the Hokage is with him, I think it’s safe._

Sasuke’s brow furrows ever so slightly, but Naruto is not blind to this – in fact, he is watching Sasuke closely, all senses alert as the whispers ripple around them. Subtle glances follow them around corners and through windows, and Sasuke glances over meaningfully at Naruto, who looks back. And somehow, without the blond trying to convey anything, Sasuke is appeased. He nods shortly as though Naruto had spoken, and turns forward again, his disquietedness assuaged.

Presently the whispers die down, the villagers comforted by Naruto’s presence around the criminal. They still skirt around the pair on Sasuke’s side, though it seems to be more of a precautionary act than one of panic. Sasuke makes no comment, leading them out of the busy downtown area into the quieter surrounding neighbourhood alleys, until they come across a walkway serving as a temporary path next to a road in construction, where no villagers are walking and the construction site is void of workers. Both men are aware of the four ANBU presences nearby, the four presences that have been tailing them since they exited the Hokage’s tower, the four presences that did not stop Sasuke from leaving the building but who watch him like hawks at every moment. But now Sasuke chooses a spot in the middle of something of a clearing, close enough to the buildings to be intercepted should he attempt an attack, close enough even for them to hear him muttering his words as though he wanted to conceal them from the hidden shinobi, who hear him nonetheless.

“You shouldn’t be seen with me,” he murmurs to Naruto.

Naruto frowns, at both the words and the way they are spoken. But he plays along, keeping his voice low as well. “I don’t see why not.”

 “Aren’t you afraid of wrecking your reputation as the kind, good Hokage of this village?”

This time Sasuke’s tone is clearer, a cynical contempt bordering on bitterness. Naruto reaches a hand out to his ever-callous friend, but Sasuke pulls back the shoulder Naruto is reaching for, turning his face, his body away, and Naruto doesn’t press him.

“Sasuke…”

“Well, go on. I’m sure you have work to do. Don’t worry about your village. I told you, I won’t do anything, and I’ve got guards around me day and night to make sure of that anyway.”

“Sasuke, why do you do this to yourself?”

Though Sasuke has been avoiding Naruto’s eyes, these words force him to turn and look into the blue before he can stop himself, and then he is stuck, locked in the gaze that always traps him.

“I’m not leaving you,” says Naruto resolutely. “Didn’t you hear them whispering? The villagers trust me, and I trust you, and so they feel safe. And anyway, I would gladly give up my position if it meant staying with you. I’ve looked for you for half my life, Sasuke. I’m not about to give you up now. Not for anything.”

Sasuke frowns.

“I’m not worth it,” he mutters, noticing he can only ever escape Naruto’s eyes when his heart _pangs_ like that. He grits his teeth. “I’m not worth any of it.”

“Sasuke—”

“I’m not worth your time or your life. Go do your work. I’ll be fine… Hokage.”

Sasuke turns away and walks deeper into the village, leaving its leader anchored in the street.

—

Naruto accompanies Sasuke on several more excursions after that – or, rather, Sasuke is persuaded into accompanying Naruto. He does not allude to the conversation they had during their first walk through the village, but neither does he make any move to prevent Naruto from dragging him outside telling him that the exercise and fresh air and sunlight are good for him. The village gradually seems to become more accustomed to Sasuke’s presence, as any worry he might inspire in the villagers is more or less neutralized by Naruto being there by his side. The ANBU relax a little, cutting their watch numbers to two, following him only casually. This, Sasuke thinks to himself, would be the perfect time to stage an attack.

But he does not. There’s no point, nothing to be gained in destroying this village. Never mind that he wouldn’t be able to completely obliterate it on his own, it would mean using up all his energy to blast apart a large group of buildings, much bigger now than he knew it, and then having nowhere to live. He isn’t displeased with his living conditions – his room in the Hokage’s tower is nice, and being under strict (not so strict anymore) watch he is given enough rations to eat comfortably. No, all in all, the benefits are better where he is now.

The ANBU finally find a time in which Naruto isn’t with Sasuke, and manage to slip in to talk to him a little. Naruto has always seen the ANBU as being a tad paranoid. It comes with the job – it’s practically in the job description. He wards off their concerns with his usual charisma, reminding them that security around Sasuke is lax enough for him to easily overpower it, and yet he has not done so. But all the same, he agrees to speak to the council to have Sasuke officially set free. They have to consult other countries and it takes an excessive amount of time and well-chosen words on Naruto’s part (speeches practically dictated by Sakura, of course), but finally he manages to convince the nations that Sasuke is not a threat, and that if he is Konoha will be the first to go anyway, so that should be a signal for them. The only real consequence to this freedom is that the ANBU stop tailing Sasuke, but it’s a relief nonetheless to Naruto.

“Good news!” he grins, bursting into Sasuke’s room. “You’re free!”

Sasuke simply looks at him.

“Well?”

Sasuke shrugs. “You’ve dragged me out of here every day for the past week, and several times before that. Not much has changed.”

“Do you see any ANBU?”

“If I did see ANBU, they would be either detaining me or doing a very poor job as ANBU.”

“The point,” says Naruto irritably, “is that you’re officially free of house arrest. You’re still under probation, you understand, but it’s a step forward.”

“I hardly see a difference—”

“Stop being a spoilsport! Come on, I’m taking you out for ramen!” Naruto grabs Sasuke’s shoulders and steers him out of the room.

—

Old Man Teuchi has retired and his daughter Ayame is now in charge of Ichiraku Ramen. She brightens considerably when she sees Naruto enter what is now a popular restaurant instead of a small booth, a complacent Sasuke following behind.

“Hey, Naruto! It’s been a while. How are you?”

Naruto hunkers down at the two-person table nearest the kitchen and grins at Ayame. “Just great, Ayame. Sasuke’s back, didja notice?”

“Sasu—” Ayame gasps. “Oh! Sasuke! I’d heard you’d returned. Wow, have you ever grown up!”

Sasuke manages to offer a gentle smile, and Ayame’s eyes go very wide, her cheeks reddening. She stammers, “T-the usual, Naruto? Okay!” before dashing off.

Naruto blinks. “I… didn’t even say anything.”

“You were going to get ‘the usual’ anyway.”

“That’s beside the point. Did you see her face?” he snickers. “I think she’s got a thing for you, now you’re closer to an appropriate age.”

Sasuke scoffs. “Back to the fangirls, then, is it?”

As though on cue, giggling erupts from a far corner. Sasuke does not bother to turn, but Naruto is less subtle and looks over to where a few girls in their late teens are ogling his friend. He chuckles, eliciting a scowl from the man across from him.

Not everyone seems so enamoured by Sasuke’s presence, however. A couple of Jounin are murmuring to each other darkly, and some of the villagers behind Sasuke are positively glaring. Sasuke seems to notice this, although he makes no move to react. Naruto can see something in his face – is it conflict, guilt, anger? He doesn’t know. But he can see the cogs in Sasuke’s mind turning and turning.

Of course, Naruto is distracted from all this when two giant bowls appear at their table. He immediately digs in.

“You’re treating, right?” he asks between slurps.

Sasuke is as close to indignant as Sasuke can ever be. It’s more like he’s annoyed, really. “What made you think _I’m_ the one treating? Shouldn’t it be the other way around, since we’re celebrating _my_ freedom? Since _you’re_ the one who dragged _me_ here?”

“Well, you should be appreciating all the hard work I’ve done to pull your ass outta there,” Naruto says, and flashes a Gai smile. Sasuke suppresses the urge to twitch.

“You realize that prior to my probation and imprisonment here, I was on the run, right? As if I have a yen to my name.”

“I was joking, bastard. I know you have no money.” After they eat, he adds, “Next time’s on you, though, alright?”

“Assuming there is a next time,” says Sasuke, as though there’s any doubt.

“Right. So, where d’you wanna go now?” Before Sasuke can answer, Naruto decides on his own. “I know! Come on.”

—

They go to their old training ground, where the three logs seem much smaller than they used to, for Sasuke at least. Naruto has grown up around them, but Sasuke hasn’t seen them since he was about four feet tall.

“This is nostalgic,” he murmurs. “Kakashi… and the bells.”

“Yeah, and the memorial.” Naruto goes to the large stone across the field. The names have doubled. He kneels down and carefully moves a flower living in a little Styrofoam cup of soil. Reaching out, he traces the characters of Kakashi’s name in the stone.

“He’s really gone?” asks Sasuke.

Naruto nods. “A couple of years back, in a conflict with Sound. His name is with his friends’ names, now.”

The silence is long and heavy. When Naruto stands and turns, it’s to see a strange yet somehow familiar look on Sasuke’s face. Then he realizes – it’s loneliness. The loneliness Sasuke always suppressed, that he’s never let show.

“He was a great Hokage,” says Naruto. “I’m proud to succeed him.”

Sasuke nods, and tightens his lips, and doesn’t say a word. Naruto looks closer. Is Sasuke… trembling?

“Sasuke…”

Naruto tentatively places a hand on Sasuke’s shoulder and Sasuke sinks to his knees, deflating. There are no tears and his features show no sorrow, but his eyes are all Naruto needs to see to know: Kakashi meant more to Sasuke than he ever let on. Naruto kneels beside him and rests a hand on his back and lets him project his silent mourning.

Naruto remembers something, and reaches into his robes. From an inside pocket he pulls out a small bell on a string, and holds it out to Sasuke.

Sasuke looks at it, then at Naruto.

“Sakura’s got the other one,” he says. “We beat him fair and square for them.”

Sasuke shakes his head. “It’s yours. You keep it.”

“Take it.”

“I never managed to steal one from him.”

“You never tried since the first time.” But Sasuke is adamant, so Naruto ties the end to his belt loop and stands. “Alright, listen. If you can get it from me, you can have it. Fair and square.”

Sasuke looks up at the Hokage, who just smiles.

Sasuke’s hand darts forward, but Naruto’s already gone, reappearing a distance away with a grin on his face. Sasuke can’t help but smirk back.

“Just ‘cause you’re out of practice doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you,” warns Naruto.

Sasuke scoffs. “Hn. You think I can’t beat you just because I haven’t been training?”

“Less talk, more action!” Naruto jumps into a tree, landing crouching, poised, on a branch. “Come and get me, bastard.”

Naruto’s not even done talking when Sasuke appears next to him, but he’s no hypocrite; pale fingers can only brush fabric before Naruto swings upside-down, hanging onto the branch by the chakra flowing to his feet. This, too, is a shout out to the old days; they can practically walk on air now, so accurate is their chakra control. Naruto leaps from the branch and towards the edge of the forest, the bell tinkling as he goes. A kunai whistles through the air, but a flick of chakra sends it half an inch from its course, missing the thread that holds the bell. Naruto lands, the dagger embedding itself into the trunk behind him.

He runs for the clearing, dodging projectiles and Sasuke’s own body, never once allowing any more contact than the brush of fingertips. For all of Sasuke’s boasting, it’s true – Naruto has gotten better, and Sasuke’s time in prison and on probation has weakened him just enough to matter. Stretches and basic exercises have helped his body to stay in tune, but that doesn’t cut it, especially after his systems have worked so hard to heal him. Naruto’s not even trying his hardest. And they both know it.

“How’s it feel?” Naruto calls, ducking another swipe. “Bit rusty, aren’t you, Sasuke? Joints could use a little more oiling?”

“It’s coming back slowly,” says Sasuke, and feints, then casually flicks his hand. An orange flash of movement later, Naruto’s got the tip of a kunai between his teeth. He tilts his chin upwards and the kunai spins back to Sasuke, who catches it out of the air, but in the time it takes for him to do this Naruto’s disappeared, his presence returning behind Sasuke. Sasuke ducks a punch, then anchors his hands in the grass and kicks out. Naruto grabs his ankles and throws him into the air, but Sasuke simply somersaults and plants his feet on the trunk of a tree, clinging to its trunk like a squirrel.

“It’s coming,” he smirks, and launches himself at Naruto. He slashes with his kunai, but Naruto jumps back, then again, dancing just out of reach of the blade. At the third swipe Naruto bends backwards, arching, landing on his hands, and Sasuke dives. The blond attempts to do a backwards flip out of the way, but Sasuke grabs his feet and wrenches him back, then pins him to the ground with one hand on his wrists, the other holding the blade to his neck, his legs trapping Naruto’s.

Naruto stares up into those black eyes, panting, Sasuke’s similarly laboured breath just as loud. His heart is pounding from the physical activity, pumping adrenaline through him.

“How’re you gonna grab that bell, then, with your hands occupied like this?” Naruto asks.

Sasuke scoffs once more and bends his head down. He grips the handle of the kunai between his teeth, his cheek brushing Naruto’s jawline as he presses the flat of the blade against the underside of the Hokage’s chin. Then he takes the bell with his free hand and, in one swift tug, removes it from Naruto’s belt loop. Naruto smiles against Sasuke’s hair.

“Fair and square,” Naruto murmurs, his mouth close to Sasuke’s ear.

Sasuke lifts his head and drops the kunai. He is almost nose to nose with Naruto; he can feel his breath washing over his face, but does not move from his position. He replies, equally quietly, “Hardly. I told you not to go easy on me.”

“Whoever said I did?”

“You had every chance to throw me off. You still do. A hold like this wouldn’t stop anyone of our strength.”

“It wasn’t the hold,” Naruto whispers, looking right into his eyes.

Sasuke goes tense. A hand slips out of his slackened grasp; an arm wraps around his back and pulls him into a hug.

“I’m glad you’re back, Sasuke.”

—

Sasuke and Naruto continue to train, revelling in mutual competition and enthusiasm. Though Sasuke initially seems a little cold to the idea, he quickly responds to Naruto’s taunting and goading. It’s barely a week before he’s back in shape, neck and neck with Naruto. His skill and rapid ascension nearly catch Naruto off guard in his elation at having his rival back, but Naruto hasn’t become Hokage for no reason. It’s just like the old days, when they used to train side by side, constantly bettering themselves in order to outdo each other. Naruto feels a thrill every time he clashes with Sasuke, every time he throws or receives a punch, every time his blade pierces skin, every time his own blood spills. He has, perhaps, never really liked violence for violence’s sake, but there’s something about Sasuke’s presence that sets his gears in motion. It’s been so long since he’s felt this way. Since he’s felt alive.

It’s early in the morning one day when Naruto strolls into Sasuke’s room with a bounce in his step and a grin on his face. Although Sasuke has been up for hours, he still scowls at the blond’s general enthusiasm, like he feels the need to bring down the overall mood of the room somehow.

“Sasuke!” Naruto shouts. As if there’s anyone else there. “I’ve got a mission for you.”

Sasuke raises an eyebrow. “A mission?”

“Yeah. You’ll do it, won’t you? You’ll be paid. It’s not hard.”

“I’m not a Konoha shinobi, stupid. I’m not entitled to do missions.”

Naruto holds out a small card to Sasuke, who takes it out of mild curiosity more than anything else. It’s a shinobi identification card, although the photograph is more then a dozen years old.

“Sorry, it’s all I had,” Naruto laughs. “We can do it properly later if you like, but that’ll do for now. Technically you’re still a Genin, but I’m giving you a C-rank mission since I know you’re more than qualified.”

“Aren’t I supposed to have to work with other brats?” he scowls.

“What, you want to?”

“No.”

“Well then. Like I said, it’s an easy mission.” Naruto gives Sasuke the scroll. “The feudal lord of the Wheat Country is leaving tomorrow and needs an escort. You’ll take him back to his home, protect him from any possible threats – you know the drill. You in?”

Sasuke scans the contents of the scroll. “The pay is good.” He closes his eyes and rolls it up. Naruto knows that’s the closest to a “yes” he’ll get out of him.

—

When Sasuke comes home to report a week later, he brings with him a letter from the feudal lord, addressed to the Hokage. Sasuke has not opened it, and although this would be expected, Naruto is not ready to brush off anything Sasuke does or does not do. As the Hokage, his duty is to make sure this ‘criminal’ does not stray. As his friend, Naruto wants to see Sasuke’s progress – and it shows, however silently Sasuke tries to act. Naruto’s learned that with Sasuke, it’s not so much what he says and does but what he _doesn’t_ say and do that counts. Sasuke does not sabotage his mission. Sasuke does not open the letter. Sasuke does not complain about his work or ask for his pay when he comes to report to Naruto. Every action or inaction of his exemplifies respect.

The letter details the feudal lord’s initial scepticism about having the last Uchiha escort him home, but goes on to comment on how Sasuke ended up being a very reliable guard, easily taking out a team of Chuunin on the road, never being disruptive, always focused on his task. The feudal lord enjoyed his peaceful trip home and has re-evaluated his impression of the Uchiha, and congratulates the Hokage on reforming this obvious asset. He is looking forward to seeing Sasuke in the Chuunin exams in two months.

By the end, Naruto is smiling. Sasuke does not find this strange in the least; it’s almost expected of the ray of sunshine that is the Hokage. He does not know what is in the letter. He doesn’t really care.

“Hey, Sasuke?”

“Hn?”

“Wanna be a Chuunin?”

Sasuke gives him a silent look.

“The exams are in less than two months. You’d have to find a team, but I’m sure you’d make it through first try.”

Sasuke takes a seat in the chair opposite Naruto’s desk. “How many tries did it take you?”

“Not including the first one when you were there too, five.”

Sasuke snorts. “Kabuto went through seven, and he didn’t even want to be a Chuunin.”

“Shut up. I know that. So, will you? It’ll be a good chance to prove to the other nations that you’re innocent, too.”

He doesn’t buy into this; after all, how do they know he’s not just acting? But he gives in anyway, perhaps just to make Naruto happy. Perhaps neither of them will ever know for sure. “Better now than later,” he concedes, adding in a mutter, “I’m not getting any younger.”

“I’m not sure any of the rookies are ready to enter the exams this time around,” says Naruto. “There are some kids from the past couple of years who’ll be trying, as well as older shinobi. It’s not just for teenagers, y’know. I was eighteen when I became a Chuunin, and many were older.”

Sasuke snorts again, more amused this time. “I never thought you’d become a Chuunin before I did.”

“But you always knew I would surpass you,” Naruto grins. “There can only be one Hokage.”

Sasuke just smiles to himself.

—

Naruto always enjoys the Chuunin exams. Though there is not much for him to oversee in the first two rounds, he always has a chance to see Gaara in time for the third round, as well as to maintain relations with the other Kages and feudal lords from all over. As difficult as diplomacy may sometimes be, Naruto likes maintaining relations. Most of the time he gets to travel to another country’s hidden village to watch the third round. And, of course, he gets to see all the new talent. It reminds him of his own youth, of the days when Team Seven was still around. As of late it’s made him miss Kakashi and Sasuke more. But now Sasuke is back and the exams are in Konoha again this time, and Naruto is more excited than ever.

As expected, Sasuke passes the first two rounds easily. Teamed up with a couple of Genin in their late teens whose teammate was killed in an exam last year, he does what is needed to advance to the final tournament, and no more. Naruto asks the exam proctors to report especially about Sasuke to him, and they inform him that the Uchiha is being the same self-important, stuck-up bastard he’s always been, refusing to make friends with his team and only cooperating as much as is needed to pass the rounds. Naruto wishes Sasuke would be a little more friendly, that he could open up to others, because he thinks Sasuke could benefit from loosening up a little. But then perhaps it’s better to take it slowly, as Sasuke hasn’t really even opened up to Naruto since he was let out of prison.

Naruto has been in exams where preliminary matches before the final round were not required, but it seems this time around the students are all exceptionally bright. He sees six teams standing before him, eighteen shinobi in training, eager to show their mettle and test themselves against each other. Sasuke stands at the back of his line, and when he notices Naruto’s eyes on him he locks their gazes, a silent statement, a firm determination.

The Hokage explains the procedure, then all but the fighters and the referee vacates to the upper balconies. Every Chuunin exam reveals new talent, new skill, even among returning candidates. They’ve taken the half-year off to study the information they’ve gained regarding their competitors; they’ve worked on their weaknesses; they’ve learned new techniques and developed their bodies. It makes Naruto remember his own youth and fills him with hope. This is part of what makes him love being Hokage.

Sasuke’s battle is short, sweet, and impressive. He wastes no movements, chakra, energy, or time – his style is the epitome of efficiency. Naruto can feel the vibe around him, hear the buzz of impressed teachers and apprehensive candidates. But then Sasuke is a few years older than many of them anyway; they can’t help having less experience, and Sasuke’s been through more than anyone. When Sasuke defeats his enemy – in a near-record twenty seconds flat – he deftly leaps up to the balcony next to Naruto and says not a word. And there is nothing Naruto has to say, either. He simply smiles, and Sasuke’s emotionless face nevertheless portrays his satisfaction.

Reminiscent of their first Chuunin exam, Sasuke finds himself a new wardrobe in time for the final matches. With the money he’s earned from his increasingly difficult missions, he’s compiled an outfit of form-fitting, sleek black fabric and blue trim for his match. Naruto has always known that Sasuke dresses better than him – well, he used to don an orange and blue jumpsuit; what more is there to say? Sasuke’s clothes are practical, with no sleeves to restrict his arms, no superfluous fabric to get in the way, yet the touches of soft electric blue serve as an aesthetic accent to the otherwise simple arrangement. Blue has always been Sasuke’s colour. To be honest, Naruto is surprised that Sasuke has foregone the high collars he always used to wear; they’d almost become a trademark, and he used them to his advantage after Orochimaru put that curse mark on the back of his neck – it’s gone now, Naruto knows, but the area is covered by fabric today.

Sasuke, standing in the arena, looks… mature. He’s grown sleek and lean; after having been half-starved, he’s put weight and muscle back on. He holds himself with the belief that he will succeed and rise – and his belief is so strong that it becomes reality: Naruto knows, because he believes the same thing of himself. Sasuke’s stance is confident but aware; he does not let his self-esteem blind him to the challenges he will face, and he has seen his opponent’s skill level in the preliminary matches. His attitude alone is enough to have the crowd muttering in anticipation. Naruto glows inside with a kind of admiring pride for Sasuke.

As the exam proctor calls the two fighters to step forward, Sasuke glances up at the stands, where Naruto is sitting in his own section with the other kages of the country. Naruto smiles broadly, and Sasuke just nods before turning back. But Naruto doesn’t miss the upward tug of the corner of Sasuke’s mouth just before his face disappears from sight.

Sasuke draws out his match this time, forsaking speed but not efficiency for the chance to show off his skills to the crowd and the feudal lords. For the Chuunin exam is not about winning, and Sasuke knows this: it’s about proving your worth, about showing you have what it takes to rise to the next level, and winning doesn’t always cut it. A shinobi can lose a battle in terms of fighting, but still succeed in obtaining an important information scroll. Sasuke lulls his opponent into a false sense of security, feigning errors and inattention, but never once does he appear to struggle. Naruto sees this immediately, knowing Sasuke’s style; other experienced shinobi in the crowd catch on quickly, and soon enough the feudal lords are seeing it too – and then his opponent trips the switch and goes out in a blaze of fire.

The crowd is roaring with excitement, but Sasuke remains calm: this is only the first match of up to three, and he hasn’t let all of his tricks out of the bag just yet. He accepts the win with silent grace and returns to the competitors’ area to watch the rest of the matches play out.

Naruto takes a deep breath and relaxes. The security has become relaxed once more since the uproar with Orochimaru, but since his understudy Uchiha Sasuke is taking part this time, the older shinobi who remember that incident have insisted upon tightening the bolts. That’s not to say security at the Chuunin exams is ever lax, since the highest powers of the lands are gathering in a single place, but no threats have appeared since the third Hokage was assassinated and time has a tendency to calm emotions. Though Naruto doesn’t suspect Sasuke of any bad motives, he can’t ignore his bias – but the ANBU are alert and Sasuke has probably qualified to be a Chuunin already, and so he can sit back, both his possible sources of worry taken care of.

By the end of the tournament, Naruto is considering asking the council to allow Sasuke to jump into the Jounin exam. He doesn’t need to, however – several people come to him asking for the very same thing. Not two months later, Sasuke is clearing the A-rank missions on a regular basis, even to the point of taking on S-ranks with incomplete ANBU teams. That’s not to say he’s never taken on an S-rank before, not when their first non-D-rank brought them blade to blade with Zabuza. Naruto wants to forego Sasuke’s ANBU test and just promote him; he selects his ANBU personally, so no one’s stopping him, and Sasuke’s already proven himself in practice anyway. But Sasuke just calls him an idiot, refuses to skip the test, and passes with flying colours in everyone’s eyes. He replaces his Jounin outfit with that of the ANBU corps, donning a hawk-faced mask. Though not the type to lead a team, he works both in his group and solo, and takes out so many threats to Konoha that the people start to look up to him, praising him, relying on him. The villagers smile and wave when he passes by; the little shinobi in training hang by his clothes and beg for tales of violence and victory. He pushes them away with growing weariness. Naruto can’t help feeling a little sorry for him, because he knows how much Sasuke hated all the girls fawning over him. They’re doing it again now too: Sasuke can barely escape a confession a week, and spends increasing amounts of time locked up in the Hokage’s room while he does his paperwork, or hiding out at their old training ground.

“Hokage.”

“Mmnh,” Naruto grunts, eyes unfocused.

“Naruto!” Sakura pokes his forehead and he sits up abruptly, shaking his head to clear his mind. “You’ve written the same sentence twice!”

“What?” He looks down at his paper. “Oh. Damn.”

She raises her eyes to the heavens. “You know what? You haven’t gotten a single thing done all week, since Sasuke got back from all his missions. Why don’t you just go follow him to wherever he went? It’ll be more productive than sitting here dreaming of him. I swear, you’ve got a bigger crush on him than I ever did.”

“I’m not dreaming of him,” he snaps.

“Well you’d think otherwise. And have you seen _him_? He practically drools when he listens to you talk.”

“Sakura!”

“Okay, so I’m exaggerating, but really now! I’ve never seen him like this.” She pauses. “He really is sticking to you like glue. He’s never gone for very long, have you noticed? Where does he go, anyway?”

“The Uchiha memorial, a lot of the time, or Kakashi’s. Training, too.”

“You should go join him. You’ve been in here for days on end.”

“I haven’t really gotten anything done,” he says, without much conviction.

“Stop lying to yourself and get your ass over there like you know you want to.”

“Heh. Thanks, Sakura. Wanna come?”

She smiles. “No, I’ve got some things to do at the hospital, once I’m done cleaning up your mess. Go on.”

—

Sasuke stands in the clearing, seven kunai in his hands, his eyes closed. In his mind he pinpoints the seven targets. He takes a deep breath, bends his knees, and jumps high. As he feels himself begin to slow at his peak, he twists and releases the knives.

A series of clinks jars his peace of mind. Instantly on the alert, he flips, landing on his hands, and springs off into a ready stance. Seven kunai and seven nine-pointed throwing stars fall to the forest floor.

“You’ll have to do better than that, Sasuke.” Naruto steps out from behind a tree, smiling.

Sasuke relaxes visibly, standing up again. “What are you doing here? I thought you had a shitload of work.”

He shrugs. “It can wait. How’s the training going?”

“These targets are a joke,” Sasuke replies. “Itachi wasn’t even a Genin when I first saw him hit them. I…” But he stops, a sudden wave of lonely nostalgia washing over him.

“Hey.” Naruto comes closer, puts a hand on the other’s shoulder. “Wanna have a match?”

Before he knows it, Sasuke grabs his wrist and drags him around and pins him against a tree with a knife to his throat. He smirks. “You’ll have to do better than that, idi—”

“What’s that?” are the words behind him that precede a headlock. The Naruto against the tree vanishes in a puff of smoke. “Forgot my trademark jutsu, bastard? I’m hurt.”

“So am I, get off,” Sasuke grunts. As soon as Naruto slackens his hold, Sasuke flips him, throwing him face-first to the ground. He grabs the Hokage’s wrists and digs a knee into his back and leans in close to say in his ear, “You know, if I’d wanted to kill you, you’d have been dead months ago. You’re lax, Hokage.”

“Kill me, then.”

Sasuke is very still. The wind slides past them, making Naruto’s hair tickle his cheek.

“If you were going to kill me, you could do it right now. No one’s around. I’m trapped. And we both know I wouldn’t lay a finger on you, Sasuke.”

Sasuke pulls away, falling back against a tree. Naruto slowly gets up and sits cross-legged.

“Any ulterior motives?” he asks. “Any reason to feign alliance, to forge a false friendship with me in order to get close to the core power structure and topple Konoha from within?”

“I have no reason to see you dead.”

“Do you have a reason to see me alive?”

He says nothing.

Naruto stands, then helps Sasuke up. “Well, that’s as much proof as I can get that you’re not up to something. It’s not much; you could still be acting.” But he’s smiling; he can read Sasuke better than that.

“Why are you going out of your way to prove my guilt? I thought you wanted to see me as nothing but innocent, after chasing me for years with the naïve hope that I’d come back to you.”

“I do, and that’s why I have to prove – to myself, to the village, to you – that you’re not planning anything. I’ve given you plenty of chances, and you’ve taken none of them. Maybe you’re awaiting a signal. Maybe you’re expecting an event. How could I know? Unless you told me of your guilt, I would never find out. And if you’re innocent and you speak the truth, I can’t believe you a hundred percent, for the sake of this village’s safety.”

“You’ve really grown, moron,” says Sasuke, but he’s smiling too. “Who are you and where’s the idiot I used to know?”

“He’s still in here,” Naruto grins, putting his hand to his chest. “Hiding out with Kyuubi, maybe.” His hand slides down to his stomach.

“I’m sure they both like to surface at the most inopportune moments,” Sasuke says. “Looks like the sensible Naruto and the idiot Naruto switched places. Someone alert the media.”

“It would be unfortunate if it were any other way, wouldn’t it?” Naruto puts an arm around Sasuke’s shoulders, and Sasuke, after a moment’s hesitation, reciprocates. Naruto grins. Sasuke just shakes his head.

—

“Hokage!”

Naruto nearly jumps out of his chair as his door slams open. An ANBU shinobi stands in the doorway, panting, blood all over his gloves and smearing his jacket, his brown hair dishevelled and falling out of its ponytail.

“Neji? What—?” Naruto stands, concerned; the ANBU have never bothered to come through the door.

“It’s – it’s the Sound mission team. Only two of them have returned—”

“Sasuke?” Naruto breathes, his lungs constricting.

Neji nods, and Naruto sinks back into his chair, deflating. Neji hurriedly continues his report. “The other two are gone; Sasuke called the eradication teams to wipe their remains. He was conscious when he got here; managed to bring Michiko back, but neither of them are doing too well. They’re in the ER. They… it’s not certain either of them will survive.”

“No,” Naruto says hoarsely, “no, no – not now, not after all this time – Neji, clean the blood off the door, won’t you?” he says, then vanishes in a flash of orange.

The nurses will not allow him into the emergency room this time, however; as soon as he appears in the lobby, thunderous in his anxiety and fear, they sit him down in a chair in the waiting area and refuse to let him go. They give him a medicinal tea to calm his nerves, and in a couple of hours when Sakura comes out for a break, she sits next to Naruto to speak to him.

“How’s he doing?” Naruto asks; he’s had half the tea and it’s mostly relaxed him, but one foot still jitters restlessly.

She frowns. She’d like to tell him everything will be alright, but they’ve known each other far too long to sacrifice truth for the sake of softening a blow. “I – I don’t know if he’ll live.”

“He can’t die!” Naruto cries out, jumping to his feet; his now-cold tea splashes over his hand and onto the floor. “He – he’s stronger than that.”

She stands, nods, and pulls him into a hug. “I hope so. I really do.”

Sakura’s hug snaps Naruto out of his shocked stupor, reminding him of his duty as the Hokage, as a friend. He must be strong for everyone. He must believe in Sasuke.

“Sasuke has more willpower than anyone I know,” he tells Sakura, and now his voice is steady and sure. “He’ll live if he wants to live.”

Sakura is comforted by this, but in his own words Naruto finds new terror: what if Sasuke doesn’t want to live? What if, being in Konoha, he only lived because it was too much effort to die? And now, now that his body is wrecked and he’s inches from the hand of death, might he simply choose to shed his burdens – his defection to Orochimaru, the murder of his brother, the ruins of his life in the darkness – and reach into the empty abyss? The question is, how much does Sasuke value what he still has? He has Konoha back: he has Konoha’s praise and admiration, and he has Sakura, and he has Naruto. Naruto’s been so happy to have Sasuke back that he hasn’t given thought to whether Sasuke was happy to have _him_ back. What if – what if he’s been a burden to Sasuke – what if Sasuke would rather be rid of him?

“Naruto, you’re shaking,” Sakura whispers.

The cup slips out of his hand and shatters on the ground. He clutches Sakura tightly.

“Bring him back.”

—

Naruto can’t sleep. He lies in bed night after night, staring at the back of his eyelids, fretting and fretting. His productivity plummets; during the day his body tries to convince him to erase the bags under his eyes while the sun warms the back of his chair. Day after day Sasuke remains unconscious and in critical condition; day after day the news remains the same, and day after day Naruto sinks further into his worry. It gets to a point where some days he’s so tired he can’t even remember why his nerves are so strung out. All he knows is the terrifying possibility of loss.

Sakura’s rarely around to help out the Hokage now; she’s busy tending to Sasuke at the hospital. She doesn’t even get a chance to sit down when the other ANBU’s heart monitor flatlines; she must discard the failure and the pain – she knew this woman, this mother, this brave, strong shinobi – and she must redouble her efforts, pouring out all her energy to keep Sasuke in the mortal world. She can’t fathom spending what little spare time she has doing paperwork, and thankfully Naruto understands. Naruto would do anything, give anything for Sasuke. He would give his own life to bring Sasuke happiness. And perhaps neither of them is aware, but Sakura knows – Sakura knows that is the most unconditional, unselfish desire in the world.

—

Days stretch into weeks, and Naruto drags himself out of his depression through urgent work and difficult missions. There’s no mind to spare for personal feelings when deadly enemies are on your tail, and just because he’s the Hokage and his survival is important doesn’t mean he can’t use his powers to protect his village and country. He throws himself almost with reckless abandon into missions, often coming back bruised and battered and requiring serious healing from the nurses, most of whom are busy tending to Sasuke – and Naruto refuses to allow any drain on Sasuke’s healing for his own sake and so insists to wait for days to have major breaks and internal injuries fixed properly. But his curse is also his strength; Kyuubi’s chakra heals him twice as fast and then he’s off again diving into the battle. When he has diplomatic tasks, he locks himself up in his room and works diligently for hours on end. Sometimes he takes his work with him on his missions, working when he’s not fighting, sleeping little or none at all. He refuses to let himself fall back into that dark despair; his poor health turns from emotionally drained to physically and mentally drained. He never believed the rule, but there is some wisdom in the idea that a shinobi should conceal his or her emotions. Emotions are distractions, and so he shuts them out.

—

Knocking resounds through the door.

Naruto doesn’t reply, eyes fixed on the report he’s reading. It’s been nearly five weeks since he’s had to replace the failed ANBU team at Sound and things aren’t getting much better. Soon he will have to go over there himself, but for now he’s got to pore over detail after detail, and every bird call or footstep is a distraction. He frowns and looks closer at the line he just read, taking it in again carefully.

The door closes quietly and, curiosity undeniably piqued, he looks up. He springs to his feet, his hand knocking over an ink bottle.

“Watch the ink, blockhead—”

But Sasuke can’t get any more words out, because before he knows it a flash of orange has appeared in front of him and arms are pulling him close and lips are pressing hard against his own. At first he can only stand stunned as the seconds seem to drag like hours and he stands all too aware of the hand on the back of his head; the arm around his waist; the soft, warm mouth – and then the heat begins to rise in his body, flushing his face, burning the tips of his ears, sending his heart off like a racehorse. He panics and thrashes and punches Naruto in the face, then wrenches the door open and stalks out.

It’s not until he tastes blood that Naruto realizes he’s lying on the floor. He turns his face sideways and stares at the wall, gingerly testing his nose. It isn’t broken, but it’s pouring like a fountain. But he can’t seem to make himself get up to find a tissue. All he can hear is the long-gone echo of Sasuke’s footsteps storming down the hall, and his own thumping heart gushing blood onto the carpet.

“Naruto?” comes a voice, then: “Oh my god, what happened to you?” Sakura grabs the tissue box from the desk and kneels over Naruto to help clean him up.

As though through blurry vision, he slowly focuses on her. “Sakura.”

“Naruto, look at me!” She checks his body for damage – thankfully none, besides the nose bleed; she fixes that up with a burst of healing chakra. She snaps her fingers in front of his face, and he starts. “What happened?”

His eyes dart downwards, shadows clouding his expression, and he pushes Sakura away. Without a word he stands and vanishes in a puff of smoke.

—

Naruto finds himself at the top of a tree above the cliff carved into the likeness of the Hokages’ faces, staring out at his village, his mind full of conflict but still somehow slow and measured. He is in a sort of limbo, time passing surreally, the world around him blank, locked as he is within the confines of his own self. There is a bubble inside him, solid and reinforced and contained; outside it all is calm, but within is concentrated chaos. It’s a pang in his heart and it hurts like hell. The pain spreads, making his joints ache and his head throb and his eyes sting and his chest constrict as though a snake is squeezing his heart. Trembling begins in his core and spreads outwards, attracting his sorrow like a magnet to metal dust, and before long he doubles over and the sobs break free, each shuddering breath coursing pure weakness in his veins as hot, salty tears let loose. It’s a terrible feeling, like nothing he’s felt in a long time – not since he was twelve and Sasuke left: it’s the utter powerlessness of complete failure. Like all he’s been through this year, all his efforts to reform Sasuke have gone to naught. It’s not true, he tells himself; Sasuke is still here and he hasn’t done any stupid things – but somehow Naruto expected something more. Like he expected Sasuke to fall in love with him.

Somehow, somewhere in the midst of missing Sasuke and having him back and helping him realize his weakness and advancing him to ANBU status – no: somewhere between meeting Sasuke and losing him, Naruto fell hopelessly in love. And it shocks him to realize it, but it’s not new, not at all. It’s not that his emotions for Sasuke have changed in the past year, or in the past decade. Perhaps they have grown stronger; perhaps his need to save his fallen angel has prevailed over his desire to outdo him – perhaps Sasuke is the reason Naruto has turned compassion into his way of the ninja. Because he had someone to teach, because he had someone to make better – because that someone wasn’t there, he projected his caring onto others and became a Hokage worth remembering. Worth loving. Isn’t he worth loving?

And now the tears are bitter, because he isn’t as selfless as he thought: behind his urge to care for others, he has found a deeper desire to be cared for himself. Because pranks and graffiti weren’t enough to get the attention he sought. Because someone one day looked out for him, and he learned that looking out for people makes people like you. Is that selfish? Is he only helping people for his own wellbeing? Does he only chase Sasuke because he wants happiness himself? Why does wanting Sasuke so much feel so wrong?

—

Sasuke fumes and fumes and fumes, for days, stalking the streets, causing the paths to clear of frightened citizens as fire erupts at his every step. His face still burns every time he thinks about it and there are nearly permanent marks in his palms from where his nails dig into them and he expects his knuckles to burst at any moment. That – that idiot! What the hell was that? He’d walked into the room expecting one of those goofy grins, that stupid laugh, maybe an overbearing, choking hug – but never a kiss. No, he suffers through a month of mind-numbingly boring hospitalization without a single visit from the idiot, and then this? As soon as he’s healed, too! As though he hasn’t been through enough pain, dragging himself on a broken leg to Konoha, sitting chained in prison, rising within three months to ANBU, and dealing with bingo-book shinobi for the rest of the past year and then some… Has it really been a year? His birthday was a couple of months ago. Naruto’s will be soon – Naruto’s birthday is the tenth of October. He hasn’t forgotten, not once in the thirteen years since he learned it.

Naruto gave Sasuke Tsunade’s crystal necklace for his birthday. She’s long since retired, presiding over the council now, but it’s been his for so long now anyway. Sasuke hasn’t taken it off since; he’s unfortunately given it a couple more scratches since its change in ownership, although the years have already worn it down. He feels it under his fingers, slowing to a halt in front of the Uchiha memorial, only realizing where he is when he looks up at the marble fan. He glowers at it, his eyes taking on a darker, bloodier red sheen, then grabs the pendant and, with a single sharp tug, snaps the chain around his neck. He raises his fist in the air, rage roaring to a peak within him—

And then he falls to his knees.

He can’t. Not because it wasn’t originally his or Naruto’s. Not because it’s sentimental – no. No. He just can’t.

Naruto is such an idiot. Kissing him like that. As if they were lovers, as if – as if they were of opposite genders! Opposites though they may often be, that’s one of the multitude of things they also have in common. But that’s not the point. Even gender aside, he shouldn’t – he can’t just _kiss_ him like that! What if someone had walked in? What if Naruto realized what a stupid idea that was? What if Sasuke – what if he’d… accepted it?

“Sasuke!”

He turns his head away from the source of the call, not feeling in the mood to deal with anyone. He hasn’t spoken in days. The last word that came out of his mouth was “blockhead.” __

“Sasuke, I’ve been looking all over for you! It’s Naruto, he—”

“Don’t talk to me about that idiot,” he snaps, standing up. He turns to go, but Sakura grabs his wrist and pulls him around with the strength he always forgets she possesses.

“Sasuke, listen to me! Naruto’s disappeared.”

Sasuke’s heart nearly stops. He grabs Sakura’s hand, almost crushing it. “What?”

Sakura manages to pull her hand from his grasp. Now that he’s paying attention, she says, “He hasn’t left a note or anything. He’s been so withdrawn lately, it’s… it’s like how he used to be before you came back.” She looks more worried then ever at this admittance. “I kept asking him if he was okay, but he wouldn’t answer me, not even to lie and say yes. He keeps throwing himself into missions; he’s not paying any thought to his own safety – someone said they saw him a couple of days ago trailing blood towards Sound but he wouldn’t listen to reason, and—”

Sasuke can’t listen any longer; he has all he needs. In a flash he’s gone, slipping his ANBU mask over his face, pulling his gloves on, checking his inventory by touch as he flies. He doesn’t stop to rest or eat, doesn’t even slow until late into the next morning when he spots the trail Sakura mentioned. There he summons one of Kakashi’s dogs, who confirms the scent, then disappears – it’s so clear that Sasuke can see it even as he tears across the country. It’s obvious Naruto’s struggling to keep moving, going slowly, but he never once turns back, although shreds of his clothes and hair and sometimes even flesh are strewn along his path.

It’s nearly another day and Sasuke is hanging on to his consciousness by a thread – he can see it, bloody red and taut as a wire – before he hears the clash of blades, then a shout that is undeniably the one voice he’s been searching for. He arrives in time to intercept a slash to Naruto’s neck, then, tired and hungry and desperately furious, he fights the three enemies with a strength propelled by the will to protect and finds this is a stronger weapon than any hatred he has ever felt, and he wonders if this is the secret to Naruto’s increase in power and ascension to Hokage, even more than his natural bottomless stamina and chakra supply from the demon fox. When his last opponent falls, Sasuke, panting, sweating, and feeling fire burning within him, tears his mask off and rushes over to where Naruto lies unconscious and bleeding and broken and takes his face in both hands.

“Naruto?” he breathes, then louder, “Naruto, wake up. Wake up, moron! It’s me, it’s Sasuke. You wouldn’t die on me, would you? I didn’t die on you – idiot, I’m here, don’t you dare go over to the other side—”

Bleary blue eyes slowly open, meeting pitch-black ones full of desperation. Sasuke’s breath catches and he pulls Naruto into a sitting hug, holding his limp body tightly.

“Don’t you dare die, you idiot,” Sasuke whispers, and now his voice is shaking just like his body.

“I won’t,” Naruto says, voice weak. “I’m fine. You’re overreacting.”

“You can’t fucking kiss me and then leave and die. What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” he replies simply, and his hands slowly come up to return the embrace, weak but heartfelt, and Sasuke’s body thrums with a feeling he’s never known, the fire within him roaring hotter than ever before.

“And coming out here? Did you think about that?”

“I wanted to avenge you.”

“I’m not dead.”

“You nearly were.” Naruto holds him a little tighter. “They weren’t sure you were going to live, Sasuke. I was so afraid… I was angry. I wanted revenge on the people who hurt you. I’m sure you can understand what that feels like.”

Sasuke is silent, because he knows better than anyone what it is to be an avenger.

“You’d be a hypocrite if you called me on it.”

“I don’t care.” Sasuke pulls back, holds Naruto’s face in his hands again, brushes his thumbs against scarred cheeks. “Revenge is never worth it.”

Naruto smiles. “I’m glad you’ve learned something, Sasuke.”

“I’ve learned nothing,” he says despairingly. “I’ve never learned anything, ever, I’m still as flawed as I was when I met you and one day you’re going to die too and then who am I going to have to kill to get you back?”

Naruto’s hand rises, and Sasuke grasps it immediately. Naruto sticks out his pinky finger. “Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“If I’m ever killed, don’t avenge me.”

“Why—”

But Naruto smiles, because Sasuke’s shock is so predictable. “Revenge is never worth it.”

Sasuke takes a breath to retaliate, then lets it all out in a sigh. Slowly, against his better judgement, he hooks his pinky with Naruto’s.

“And I’m not going to avenge you either, understand,” Naruto says.

“I wish you would.”

“It’s a kind sentiment, but it’s of no use, Sasuke.”

“And if I come back as a restless ghost because I haven’t been avenged?”

Naruto doesn’t believe in ghosts. “If your murderer is a threat to Konoha, you’ll have your peace. Otherwise, well, you can come back and haunt me for the rest of my life; I won’t mind too much and I’ll have brought it upon myself. I still have the village to protect. A lot of people are counting on me to live. People go to illogical lengths for revenge. Revenge brings no one back. Don’t sacrifice yourself for my sake, Sasuke.”

Sasuke’s brow furrows. “Even after all this time – after all these years I ran from you, why do you still want me? Why aren’t you angry for what I’ve done? Why… why won’t you accept my guilt?”

“Sasuke, you don’t understand.” Naruto smiles. “I’ve already accepted your guilt. I’ve already forgiven you. There’s no need to repent any longer.”

“How could you forgive me—”

Naruto’s finger touches Sasuke’s lips, and Sasuke falls silent immediately.

“I don’t know why, but the anger’s gone. I no longer know why I should be angry with you. Maybe you did something wrong, but I’ve wanted you for so long that it stopped mattering.” Naruto presses his forehead to Sasuke’s. “They say time dulls emotions. In time, I forgot my anger, but I never forgot what it felt like to be next to you. I never forgot the happiness you brought me – nor the sorrow I felt when you left.”

“But why? Why would you care so much about me?”

“Well, why do you care about me?”

“I don’t.”

Naruto actually laughs at this. “You would have left me to die if that were true.”

“I won’t leave you, so don’t leave me, okay? Don’t…”

His bright expression fades. “You left me a long time ago, Sasuke.”

“I came back. Are we even?”

“Only if you give me one thing.”

Sasuke doesn’t need to ask; he leans in closes his eyes and kisses Naruto softly, deeply. “Anything,” he whispers against Naruto’s lips.

“You.”

“Forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> I could say so much about this story, but not in few enough words to make it meaningful. It speaks for itself, the way I can only communicate the bond between Sasuke and Naruto through stories and not just talking about it. This story is very different from Two Face. I couldn’t say which I like better, but this one is certainly more focused, constructed much more tightly, whereas Two Face is very relaxed.
> 
> If you have any questions or comments, praise or criticism, fire away.
> 
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> R+F


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